


Chasing Tails

by runningwater



Series: Feysand Things [6]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: 19th century?, Combo of Pride&Prejudice and the Old South, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn, gentry, shapeshifting feyre, subtle magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23706661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwater/pseuds/runningwater
Summary: The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key from around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them.You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Feysand Things [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607200
Comments: 205
Kudos: 326





	1. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bjutiful by FEAXHERS is a good soundtrack for this story.

Golden light poured out of the tall sandstone house; a string quartet wove a melody between the rays. Carriages crawled up the long, curving driveway, halting to let their passengers pour out. A rainbow of colors swarmed the front steps, ladies preening in their new gowns made especially for this event, gentlemen sporting crisp waistcoats and towering top hats.

Gems glittered in the ears and on the hems of skirts, lace curved to draw attention to places where eyes should not wander. I lazily took in these details, but it was nothing I hadn’t seen before. Life was slow in Velaris, the only source of amusement was balls and galas, dinners and dances thrown by the town’s gentry. It was a nice, quiet life but tedious. It was only until recently when a new breeze blew through the town, bringing with it an intrigue to delight the masses.

Two months ago, the house that had stood empty for years had finally found a new owner. Miss Feyre Archeron purchased the lonely estate that was a mile out of town. It sat on one hundred acres of good land and had space for twelve tenant families.

For the first month, only workers had bustled around the estate, cleaning up the house and renovating it for its new owner. Anyone who had questioned the workers only received vague answers for who they were working for, only that she was very generous and treated them well. No one could tell if they were hiding a dark secret or if they were extremely loyal. New orders were placed almost every day in the town’s stores and with their craftsmen. Fabric for curtains, linens, and bedspreads. Entire sets of furniture for the dining room, parlor, library, and bedrooms. Groundkeepers to tame the wild gardens and grocers to fill the kitchen.

Tenants were sent ahead and given anything they needed to start their lives there. Velaris was a wealthy town but the new blood breathed fresh life into the economy, and into the gossip wheel.

Finally, the new mistress arrived. And no one saw her. It was like she had appeared from thin air. The only reason anyone knew was because a worker at the tavern had mentioned that she had requested lemon tarts for breakfast one morning.

And that’s when the chaos had begun. Anyone who tried to call on her was politely turned away, citing that their mistress was busy at the moment or not in the house. When another caller returned from a failed attempt to meet the new lady, the citizens took to the streets, searching for a new face in the crowd, hoping that her being out meant that she had come to town.

That had been the first week. The second was when things took a turn for the nasty. Gone were the curious stipulations as to who this new person was and where she was from. Rumor after rumor flew around. Someone’s cousin heard that she was terribly disfigured after a childhood accident and lived as a recluse. Another person’s business partner who just arrived from the big city said that she was hiding from an abusive ex-lover. The workers from the estate came to town less and less, tired of being harassed for new information and the endless questions.

Why was she not receiving callers?

Why hadn’t she reached out to Velaris’s most prominent socialites, inviting them to dinner?

Why? Why? Why? Why.

I had listened to everything mostly passively, only offering my opinion when pressed directly. Mor had cared for a bit but when it was obvious that no new information was being shared, she lost interest and turned to other relevant topics. We were at the height of the trading season; everyone was flush with money from summer crops and business was booming. I could hardly keep my store and warehouse stocked before it was cleared out again. Miss Archeron certainly did not help with the massive influx of orders she needed for her estate. But who am I to complain about good business?

And then an invitation arrived at every household in town announcing a ball at her estate. The gossip wheel spun again, and orders increased tenfold as everyone claimed that this would be the social event of the year. This was **the** event to see and be seen at as the new mistress would finally introduce herself to polite society.

Cassian shifted across from me, ready to hop out and begin to flirt with whatever lady caught his eye tonight. Azriel was more composed, per usual, the picture of a well-bred gentleman. Mor was to my left, straightening her necklace for the thousandth time.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous?” I chuckled.

Mor answered with an elbow in my side, “No, why would I be? She’s probably the same breed of airhead as everyone else in this town.”

“Present company excluded of course,” Cassian smirked.

“No,” Mor deadpanned, “Especially present company.” Azriel let a ghost of smile play along his lips while Cas turned ten different shades of red. I was honestly surprised steam didn’t start pouring out of his ears.

Any response he could have snapped at her was cut off as our carriage finally arrived at the front of the line. A footman dressed in a smart red coat opened the door and bowed his head. I exited first, turning to help Mor down, followed by Cassian and Azriel.

There was no time to closely observe the front of the house, there were many more carriages to arrive and the crowd was anxious to sweep everyone indoors.

I led the way up the steps, people shifted out of the way to show their deference. It was ridiculous that so many people in the town feared my family but if it made everyone give them space, then I wasn’t about to change their minds.

Inside was almost as packed as the driveway, I had no idea how everyone would fit inside the household, but if I remembered correctly, this house was quite capable of hosting this town and the one next over.

Chandeliers sparkled, throwing diamonds and rainbows along the ceiling. Rich carpets cushioned every footfall while paintings covered every inch of the walls. Incredible brushwork detailed landscapes and portraits as well as a few abstract scenes. Each work carried a fresh point of view, making the viewer take a different stance on mundane objects.

Normally there was a line where guests could be greeted by the host, but it seemed like there was no such thing at this party.

I filtered through nearby conversations, picking up that everyone was astonished that Miss Archeron was not there to greet them. With a mental shrug, I decided that our best bet would be to find a table to eat and drink until we were sufficiently tipsy enough to start dancing. If I had to go one more dance with Ianthe sober, there was a good chance Mor would be inheriting my entire business.

The others followed me as I found my way to the buffet, taking a small plate and filling it with meats and pastries. Mor opted for all sweets while Cassian and Azriel stuck with the hearty foods. Each of us picked up a flute of champagne and claimed a table that was to the side of the ballroom floor.

Here, tall ceilings arched far over our heads and even larger and grander paintings adorned the walls that didn’t have massive windows. On the far opposite of the hall, there was a balcony that jutted slightly over the floor, partially filled with shadows.

 _How mysterious_ , I mused. It seemed that the mistress had a flair for the dramatic.

Cassian noticed it too, “Ten pieces of gold that Miss Archeron will make her first appearance there.”

“Fifteen that she will opt for the grand staircase in the main hall,” Mor countered.

“Twenty that she doesn’t appear at all,” Azriel said.

They looked to me for my bet, “I have to agree on Cassian with this one, it’s too perfectly set up.” Cassian settled for a smug smile while the other two rolled their eyes.

Until she decided to join us, we continued to drink and make small comments about who was in attendance that night. It appeared to be everyone, even the small shop owners that had no large means even got an invitation. Miss Archeron had a generous nature it seemed, even if she wasn’t too sociable.

The string quartet continued in the background playing waltzes and local country dances. Only a few couples milled the dance floor, the main festivities hardly beginning. Waiters circled the crowds, keeping everyone’s glasses filled.

I was beginning to feel a pleasant buzz when sharp nails trailed over my shoulder. Judging by the looks on Mor, Cas and Az’s faces, Ianthe had finally found me.

“Mr. Night, would you do me the honor of dancing with me,” her words passed my ear in a hot breath tinged with alcohol. Mor worked hard to keep a sneer off her face while Cassian was choking down some bread in an attempt to keep from laughing at my misfortune.

I gently laid my napkin down on the table and carefully stood, controlling my urge to turn her down.

“Of course, Miss Prion,” I said, offering my hand. I lead Ianthe to the dance floor, standing opposite of her. I answered her curtsy with a bow, allowing muscle memory to take over my body. She tried to force me closer by digging her nails into my shoulder, but I managed to keep us at a respectable distance as the waltz started up.

We swept around the dance floor, delicately weaving through the steps.

“So, the evasive Miss Archeron has yet to make an appearance,” Ianthe simpered, trying to draw me into conversation.

“It would appear that way,” was all I gave in response. Just because I had dance with her doesn’t mean I have to engage in conversation too.

“It is extremely rude of her to invite us all here and still not deign to show her face,” she prattled on. “Obviously she has money if she can afford all of this but _honestly_ show a little decorum or else no one will accept you into our society, no matter how much money you have.” Ianthe carried on, making small barbs at the invisible hostess, trying to draw a stronger comment out of me but I continued to deflect her.

I released Ianthe for a spin around another couple, limply offering out my hand to receive her again. _Only a few more minutes of this torture and then I’ll need a whole bottle of champagne to recover._

“Oh, come now, my party cannot be that unbearable,” a new voice greeted me.

Ianthe now spun away with a different partner while a new woman took her place.

My voice dried up in my throat. Blue-gray eyes sparked with humor; a full mouth curled up in amusement. Her brown hair hinted gold in the gaslighting, piled into an elegant bun. She was soft and warm under my gloves, causing me to instinctively pull her closer, a complete opposite to Ianthe.

“I… ahem, I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” I managed to get out, my cheeks reddening at my mistake of uttering private thoughts aloud.

She laughed, a clear sound that warmed my core more than any alcohol. “That’s what I thought, but tell me honestly, is my party that bad? I tried to make it as current as possible.”

And that’s when it clicked in my head. “You’re Miss Feyre Archeron,” I gaped.

“Last time I checked,” she responded. We were still traveling around the dance floor but it seemed that no one had noticed that the hostess was right in the middle of them.

My manners finally fell into place, “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Archeron. My name is Rhysand Night.” I bowed my head as much as possible in polite greeting, seeing as we were currently engaged in movement.

“And I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Night,” she returned, laughter lacing her words, amused at my flustered state.

“Shouldn’t you, umm…” _Get it together you fool_ “be greeting your guests?”

“I could be but then I wouldn’t have been able to rescue you from your partner. You looked to be in such pain that I could help but step in.”

“Then I must thank you for that, Miss Prion is not the most… pleasing partner.”

“Then I must aspire to be better,” Feyre said, she straightened her spine even more and relaxed into my grip, causing her steps to become more fluid and graceful.

“So, Mr. Night, you have yet to answer my question about my party.”

“It is everything a modern party should be and more. The food and music are exquisite and the company even more so,” I smiled down at her.

She accepted the compliment with a nod and a blush. “And does the champagne take away the pain of unpleasant partners?”

“I will let you know at the end of the evening.” We both chuckled, it seemed we had both had our share of tedious dancing partners.

“I must say though, this house is beautiful but what really brings it to life are the paintings. You simply must let me know where you acquired so many of such vibrant pieces.”

“That is an easy request, I painted all of them,” she said proudly.

I nearly stumbled with shock but held it together. “You painted everything on this estate?”

“Is that so hard to believe, Mr. Night?” she challenged.

“No! No, of course not, I’m merely astounded by how many there are and the detail of them,” I hastily backtracked, “I did not mean any offense by it.”

She let out another laugh, “None taken, I’ve been painting most of my life, they add up to quite a lot after a while.”

The waltz was wrapping up, final flourishes brought our conversation to an end.

“Thank you for the dance, Mr. Night.”

‘Thank you for saving me, Miss Archeron,” I bowed at the waist to my savior, but when I looked up again, she had vanished. I cast my eyes around the room but Feyre had effectively blended into the crowd and no one had noticed.

For the second time that night, she had left me speechless and mystified. I made my way back to our table where the others were waiting to tease me about having to endure Ianthe, but before I could tell them of my encounter, a murmur washed over the room and all heads turned to the balcony.

Feyre stood in the light of chandeliers and waited for the crowd to quiet.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending my ball tonight. As some of you may have gathered,” she looked right at me,” I am Feyre Archeron, the new owner of this estate.”

Gasps and gossip broke out over the room, looks of surprise were passed around like glasses of wine.

Cas let out a small hoot, which was thankfully lost in the noise, and said “Pay up! I won the bet!” Mor and Azriel began to dig for his winnings but I intervened.

“Not quite, I just met her on the dance floor, no one wins the pot tonight.”

A collective “what” had them whipping their heads to look at me, disbelief written across their features.

“Bullshit,” Cas hissed.

“The bet said ‘first appearance’, Cassian, and she made her first appearance to dance with me.”

“But no one saw that!” he argued.

“Shhh,” Mor hushed him, “We’ll settle this after she’s done.”

Feyre had waited patiently for the room to calm down again before continuing her speech.

“I apologize for not introducing myself sooner to your society, it has been quite a whirlwind moving here and settling in. I am now more than happy to meet each and every one of you and your families. I hope that you will forgive me for my shyness and welcome me.”

“Furthermore, I have moved to Velaris not only for its charm and beauty, but I have decided it is time for me to take a husband.”

Excitement sparked in my chest, I had spoken to this woman for less than a few minutes but there was already something about her that drew me in and made me excited to verbally spar with her. The looks the other gentlemen in the room were giving each other did little to give me hope, unfortunately. Despite Mor claiming that the town was filled with airheads, there were many fine men for Feyre to pick from.

“However,” she said, the same humor from before creeping into her voice, “I will only marry the man that can open my front door with a key.”

Excitement turned to confusion; more murmurs broke out.

“That key is around the neck of my cat, who will be allowed to roam the town and countryside freely. She is a tabby with blue eyes, I think it will be quite easy to pick her out.

“If she is harmed in any way by anyone attempting to catch her, they will be disqualified from the contest and face my personal wrath.

“Good luck, gentlemen, you will need it,” she finished with a nod of her head and disappeared from the balcony.

I turned back to my friends, all of us dumbfounded by the competition that had just been issued.

“Well,” Cas grinned, “It seems like we need a new bet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me to myself: finish the fics that you’ve already planned out several chapters.  
> Also me: hey let’s start and finish a new one.


	2. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know exactly how I want this story to end (I may have written it up already ;3) but I honestly don’t have a clear plot line, only a few ideas. So, if there’s anything you want to see, lmk. Otherwise, enjoy reading this story because it’s as new to me as it is to you.

It was nearly impossible to keep a straight face as I announced my plans to marry and how I was picking a husband. The women looked upon me with contempt while the men’s faces were open with intrigue and determination.

I stood in the dim hallway that led to the balcony, gathering my nerves for the night ahead. Now that I had shown my face and made my declaration, it was time to meet the masses, which will no doubt nearly drown me.

 _One breath after another, Mother trained you for society._ I took a final, steadying breath and lifted my chin, making my way to the stairs that will take me to the ballroom floor. The quartet had taken up the music again, a gentle, sweeping piece but conversation nearly covered the notes.

Bright light temporarily blinded me as I stepped onto the floor, but that was much more preferable than the looks that were thrown my way.

_Who will be brave enough to ask me to dance first?_

I quickly had my answer when a tall man shouldered his way through the crowd. His long, blond hair was tied back in a simple ponytail at the nape of his neck, but his clothes oozed wealth. A rich brown jacket was snugly fitted over a forest green vest with matching breeches. He had piercing green eyes that took in my form but left a film of grime that had me wanting to retire early and take a bath.

He stopped before her, bowing low. “Hello Miss Archeron, I am pleased to meet you. My name is Tamlin O’Toole.” His grin was a bit too sharp to be called friendly.

She curtsied in response, “Pleased to meet you, Mr. O’Toole.”

“Will you do me the honor of being your first dance partner?” he asked, offering his hand.

“But of course,” _even though you’ll actually be the second_ , I added silently. I let him guide me the short distance to where half the room was currently dancing, trying to ignore that everyone was looking at us.

I positioned my left hand on his shoulder and rested my right in his hand. Despite his slightly disconcerting presence, he was still a graceful dancer and lead her through the steps without fault.

“So, Miss Archeron, do you really intend to lead everyone through this wild goose, or cat, chase?” he questioned, his tone mocking.

“You must think it silly, Mr. O’Toole,” I simply replied, it was only natural that some people would poke fun at the challenge.

“I must confess that I do. Why have a perfectly nice gentleman jump through the hoops of catching your cat rather than court them the usual, and proper, way?” it was obvious that he was referring to himself, but I skipped over the insinuation.

“Believe it or not, it’s actually a tradition in my family, to come up with a quest,” not the complete truth but only the winner of my challenge will get to know the true answer.

“A tradition you say, and you have no intentions of breaking it?” he pressed further still. As handsome as this man was, his manner was starting to grate on my nerves.

“Yes, I have no intentions in breaking my family’s tradition, lest I be shunned for the rest of my lifetime.” I was starting to count down the measures until the song ended and I could escape to a more pleasant partner.

“Well if you marry the right man, you won’t have to depend on your family, you will have your husband to support you,” he countered, thinking that his logic was infallible.

“Perhaps, but there are no certainties in life.” Thankfully the final notes floated off of the violin strings and I bid Tamlin goodbye.

The next several hours were filled with similar conversations, men thinking that there were simpler ways for me to pick a husband. I could only brush off their questions and comments, handling them with as much grace as I could muster. Mr. Night did not appear again to ask me to dance. I tried to ignore my irrational disappointment.

Any time that was not spent on the dance floor, I was sipping on a flute of champagne and trying to find at least one sensible woman in the crowd that I could hold an intellectual conversation with, but those moments were few and far in between.

The grandfather clock in the hall was striking just past one in the morning when I was finally able to slip through the crowd to the buffet table without being stopped. The last time I ate was lunch and even then that was only a few bites. If I was going to last any longer, I needed no less than three lemon tarts in my stomach.

There was the only one left that got snatched up by a golden hand when my fingertips were only inches away. I strangled a cry from escaping my throat, as that would be improper behavior of a hostess in the middle of her own party.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, here,” a voice said as they slipped the tart onto my plate. I startled, looking up at the person that had returned my last hope at sanity. She had gorgeous gold hair that was pinned half up, half down, ringlets slightly damp from the heat of the room. Her amber eyes glowed in the light, liquid and warm.

“Oh, thank you….”

“Morrigan Night,” she finished.

“Ah,” my heart fell a little. _She must be Mr. Night’s wife._ I internally scolded myself for being so taken with a man that I only danced with for a few minutes and also had a wife. “Thank you, Mrs. Night, I haven’t had anything to eat all evening.”

Morrigan let out a surprised laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. I gave her a confused look, unsure of what I said that was so funny.

“Sorry, Rhysand Night is my cousin, not my husband, although it’s an easy mistake to make if you’re new to the town. He danced with you earlier, correct?”

I only had a second to rein in my relief, “Yes, it appeared that I saved him from an unwanted dance partner,” I said with a small grin.

Morrigan returned my grin, “Indeed, that was Ianthe Prion. She tends to ask my cousin to dance even when she knows that he does not enjoy her company.” She leaned in like she was sharing a scandalous secret, “She hopes to marry him someday but has yet to catch on that there isn’t a chance in hell for her.”

We shared a laugh at this woman’s ignorance. “Well how about you gather some more food and come join us at our table, you can meet the rest of the family and catch a break from dancing, I’m sure your feet are about to fall off.”

My chest warmed at this woman’s friendly words. She was so genuine and grounded that I couldn’t help but agree. Morrigan stood guard for me as I filled my plate with a few more pastries and other food.

Once my plate was sufficiently piled, she led me through the still thick crowd to the ballroom, where a few men were lounging at the table. I recognized Rhysand and gave him a friendly nod.

“Look who I found,” Morrigan announced. “I’m sure everyone knows who Miss Archeron is at this point so allow me to introduce my other cousins. Cassian Monte,” a gentleman with a roguish grin and long brown hair tied back rose to kiss my hand, even going as far to wink, “and Azriel Shade,” the other gentleman had the same shade of brown hair, only shorter, but his face was more reserved. Not cut off and distant, but quiet and peaceful, someone I could sit in hours of comfortable silence with.

“Pleased to make you acquaintance,” I said with a curtsy, setting down my plate. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Night. No more dancing with unpleasant partners I trust?”

“None as so pleasant as you, Miss Archeron,” he replied smoothly. It appeared that any earlier awkwardness had faded away and been replaced with easy grace.

I only allowed myself a small blush at his compliment and instead turned my attention to my food. Handsome men were fun to talk with, but my stomach demanded more attention at the moment.

The others sensed my need for a moment of quiet and continued their conversation around me. I could still feel eyes on me, but they were gentler and less pressing than the others that I’ve felt all night.

Once at least half my plate had been cleared, I returned to the present topic at hand.

“I still believe that I can ride a horse better and faster than you, Mor,” Cassian argued. “Remember that I beat you when we were racing in Mr. Beechamp’s field.”

“When we were nine!” Morrigan exclaimed, “That was the first time that I didn’t have to ride side saddle so of course I wasn’t at my best.”

Cassian waved his hand, “Still, you've hardly improved since then.”

“Fine, two days from now, we will race again and then we shall see who the best horsewoman is.”

“Or _horseman_ ,” Cassian corrected.

Morrigan leveled a glare that would have flattened a lesser man, but Cassian only returned it with a smirk.

“Twenty marks on Mor,” Rhysand interjected, earning him a glare from Cassian.

“Thirty marks on Cas,” Azriel countered.

“And what do you think, Miss Archeron?” Rhysand asked me. I paused, swallowing the last of my pastry and contemplated the two in question. Cassian would seem like the natural better choice, being a man, but there was a quality about Morrigan that most would overlook.

“I’m afraid I cannot give you an answer as I have not seen either of them ride a horse.”

Morrigan and Cassian then launched into their respective histories of how long they’ve been riding, tripping over each other.

Rhysand leaned over to me, “They could be at this for a while, would you care to dance with me?”

“Of course, Mr. Night,” taking his hand and standing. Morrigan and Cassian let out what sounded like squawks as Rhysand took me away from their lecture.

Instead of a waltz, this one was a standard line dance. I stood opposite of him, curtsying with the other ladies as he bowed in tandem with the gentlemen. Unfortunately, this type of dance allowed for little conversation but instead gave me the opportunity to study his form.

Mr. Rhysand Night stood a few inches taller than me, enough that allowed for a comfortable difference of height without having to crane my head to an uncomfortable angle. He had hair blacker than a raven’s but shared the same blue qualities when it caught the light.

Tonight, he had chosen an all-black ensemble, down to the undershirt that peeked out of his jacket sleeves. On anyone else, it would have looked too stiff or pretentious, but he wore the outfit with ease as if he owned the color. His shoulders were broad and his body seemed well kept, unlike some of the heavier gentlemen I had danced with tonight. It seems that Rhysand had not allowed his wealth or position keep him from being active. 

His eyes, well, I don’t know how they didn’t stand out before. While everything else about him was remarkable, it was his eyes that made all other features fade away. They were the deepest blue I had ever seen, making even the summer sky seem pale in comparison. When they fell into shadow, they turned purple, a color I previously thought impossible to find naturally in the human form but here was evidence otherwise.

The song was too short for me to continue to observe him, and we soon made our final bows. Rhys thankfully offered his arm to escort me back to the table. I wasn’t quite ready to continue to socialize for the evening. Even though it was getting into the wee hours of the morning. Country dances could go all night, with its final guest not leaving until the sun broke the horizon.

When we were once again seated at the family’s table, Morrigan and Cassian seemed determined to draw an answer out of me as to who would win in a horse race.

“I think the only obvious answer would be for Miss Archeron to join us and witness the results,” Rhysand halted the impending argument. He turned to me for my answer.

“I have yet for any social engagements for that day so I would be delighted to attend,” I answered with a smile. Unlike the other offers for tea and dinner that had come my way, this was the only invitation I was most looking forward to. This family was small and loudmouthed but was the most cohesive I had met so far.

A round of smiles swept the table, excited to see the outcome of the race and to have made a new friend.

Unfortunately, I was only able to spend a few more minutes at the table before another gentleman asked to escort me into dance.

I again fell into the pattern of dancing and conversing with others, but none could match the warmth of my newfound friends.

As I suspected, it wasn’t until dawn appeared when the last group of guests bundled bleary-eyed into their carriage and took off down the driveway. I was sad that I was unable to see off Rhysand and the others but the promise of seeing them the next day was enough to hearten me.

I entered my house, napkins and doilies littered the floor, accompanied by the odd or end ribbon that had come off a gown. Plates were heaped on almost every surfaced, even with my servants constantly clearing them away.

Speaking of my servants, they looked even more exhausted than me, sluggishly gathering the trash and platters.

I clapped my hands, gathering their attention. “Everyone take the day off, we’ll clean this evening. Please tell the cook that we will be eating simply today and that I will be joining you all in the kitchen for dinner. No need for any fancy pretense.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The past month had been nonstop preparation of the estate for my living and then the ball. They all needed to rest before continuing on with life.

When I saw everyone was clearing out, leaving the mess be for now, I climbed the grand staircase to my chambers. My handmaid tried to help me out of my gown, but I shooed her off to her own bed, stating that I could undress myself.

It was a relief to finally be alone and my thoughts could be put into order.

I must have met dozens, if not hundreds of new people tonight, almost none of which really stuck in my mind.

Except for Rhysand Night and his odd family. I could only hope that he would be the first the catch onto my competition, but it was too early to start wishing that he would be the one to unlock my front door.

After all, I had just met him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any bets on who will win the race? Stay tuned to find out!


	3. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh this chapter started out so boring but we’re off to the races!

The entire carriage ride home, I endured sidelong glances from the others. I was debating if I was too tired to ask them what they were looking at me for when Cassian broke the silence.

“Miss Archeron was a most pleasant host, wasn’t she, Rhys?”

I evaluated my brother carefully before responding. “Yes, she was very well-spoken and a graceful dancer,” seemed like an innocent enough answer.

“Makes you think she might be graceful in other areas,” Cas spouted with a downright dirty grin. I was ready to smack him when Mor beat me to the punch. In which she actually punched him which was harsher than what I would have given him.

“Ow!” Cas tried to slide farther away from Mor, which was nearly impossible in the small space. “What was that for?”

“You know exactly what that was for, Cas. Miss Archeron was the picture of a lady and you just _had_ to say something disrespectful.”

Cas had no response, just pouted and rubbed his shoulder where Mor’s hit landed. I let out a sign through my nose, reminding myself that Cas was like this with all women.

“What are your thoughts on her contest?” Azriel posed to the group.

“I think it’s crazy brilliant,” Mor said, “it will keep all the men on their toes for once. They have gotten too compliant in this town.”

“I can’t wait to see how everyone is going to attempt to win, I plan on spending my free time in town to watch them run around,” Cas said.

“You’re not going to participate?” I carefully asked.

“Perhaps if I see the cat I may take my chances, but I think the most fun will be observing,” Cas responded. “And with all the eligible men participating, there will be more than a few women left wanting of a partner,” he said with a roguish grin.

“And you, Rhys?” Mor directed towards me, she was always so good on picking up my moods and feelings, it almost got annoying.

“I’m currently too busy with the business to worry about this. Miss Archeron seems lovely, but I don’t have the time to spare at the moment.”

“You have enough time to watch me win the horserace,” Cas pointed out. Mor looked ready to aim a kick at him, but I spoke before she could act.

“That is a good point, I already have my hands full looking after you children,” I tried to level a serious look at the pair of troublemakers, a smile threatened to crack my expression.

Mor and Cas let out harmonious squawks of protest, ready to bicker about who is the biggest troublemaker, and then further my point.

“As much as I like Miss Archeron, I think she and I are better off friends,” Azriel cut off the tempest before it could start. “She had some interesting ideas about books that we’ve both read, I look forward to discussing them with her soon.”

The other muttered their agreements, effectively allowing the group to lapse back into silence for the rest of the way home.

Their massive estate on the outskirts of town finally appeared and the exhausted group exited the carriage. I thanked my driver and told him to get some sleep. I wouldn’t require him for at least several hours, if at all.

The others filed into the house and peeled off into their respective rooms.

“Let the other staff know to get some rest, I expect we won’t be up until lunch.”

“Yes, sir,” my footman bowed his head and went off to tell the household to sleep in.

My mind was too weary to sort through the pile of documents on my desk, they would have to wait until I was sober and rested. A fire still simmered in the hearth in my room, adding to my drowsiness.

It was all I could do to strip down to my undershirt and fall into bed, blue eyes and wide smiles chasing me throughout my dreams.

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident. I made my way through the pile of documents that were deemed the most demanding. Invoices, shipping logs, inventory counts and orders, all to keep my business profitable and running.

I inherited Night Imports from my father, who inherited it from his father and so on. We owned a few storefronts in big cities across the county, and one here in Velaris. I could have chosen to live in the townhouse in Fesa, a port city where one of our warehouses resided, but it was too crowded and dirty. Velaris was where I belonged. Any correspondents could be mailed to me, and I took trips where I was needed.

My father had managed the company well but failed to keep up with the changing times. It had fallen to me to refresh the entire system and have curators constantly looking for new products that we could disperse and sell.

Dinner was another quiet affair like lunch. Mor informed me that Feyre would be arriving just after lunch for the race and then staying for dinner afterward.

I nodded at the information, stating that I was happy for a chance to see her again and continue our conversations.

As Adams prepared me for bed, I quietly requested for him to lay out my best coat for tomorrow. It was hopeless to try and convince myself it was for any other reason but Miss. Feyre. Archeron.

* * *

The front bell chimed through the house, effectively causing my heart to pound. That morning, I had already risen with a hoard of butterflies making a new home in my stomach. Breakfast had been near torture, Cassian and Mor constantly egging each other on about the impending race. The only reprieve I, or really only Azriel, got from their miniature war was when they both turned on me and made comments about Feyre and how delightful it will be to see her again so soon after her introduction to Velaris society.

Perhaps even her cat will follow to the Night estate and make an appearance!

How.

Wonderful.

I locked myself in my office to attempt to get a few hours of work done without the pair’s distractions, but their comments chased me into my private study and waltzed their way around my head.

Not unlike how Feyre and I waltzed that first night.

 _Stop it._ I scolded myself, trying to focus on the numbers on the page before me. But the bell announcing her arrival scattered all hope of completing any more work.

What sounded like Mor’s footsteps rushed down the stairs, followed by her excited chatter as she greeted Feyre and welcomed her into our home.

Cassian’s voice entered the fray, allowing me once last breath to steady my unreasonable nerves.

He passed me on my way to the front of the house. He was headed to the gardens to prepare, only giving me a nod of hello as he mentally talked to himself. A common occurrence when there was a competition between him and Mor.

My steps were blessedly even on the hallway rug as I navigated into the main hallway. Too soon, I arrived in the entryway, bright afternoon light streaming in to highlight the gold in her hair.

“Miss Archeron, welcome to our home,” I said, bowing my head in greeting.

Feyre answered with a curtsy, “Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Night. You have a lovely house, I’m sure your grounds are just as wonderful.” She was wearing a white linen dress edged with blue lace today, perfect for the late summer heat. Its high waistline accented her body perfectly, showing off her gentle curves that I had felt during the ball.

“Cas is in the gardens in the back, no doubt stroking his ego about how he is sure to win the race today. Let’s go tease him,” Mor giggled, looping her arm through Feyre’s. I took my place on Feyre’s other side.

“Where is Mr. Shade?” Feyre asked.

“I believe he is personally tacking the horses and inspecting them. I wouldn’t put it past these two for trying to sabotage the other,” I answered.

Mor let out a gasp, “I would never!”  
“Oh, yes you would cousin. Remember the Christmas Baking Competition? You managed to swap out Cas’s sugar with salt while he shoved your cookies too far back in the oven for you to retrieve. The true victims were Azriel and I who had to taste test everything. It was lucky that we didn’t have to call the doctor.”

“Alright, maybe I would sabotage a little, but nothing as bad as Cassian,” she conceded.

I shot her a disbelieving look while Feyre broke out in giggles over the story. I allowed my eyes to flicker over to her face and enjoy the look of amusement there. Feyre caught my stare and returned it with a smile.

I stepped forward and opened the doors that lead to the garden. While it was a massive estate, the garden was only a slightly bigger area than the house. Pathways wove in and out of hedges and flower beds, eventually leading to the massive pond that sat at the foot of the hill. Off to the left was the stables where Azriel was leading two horses to the far edge of the gardens where Cas was waiting.

A small set of tables and chairs under umbrellas had been set out by the servants along with some refreshments. Azriel, Feyre and I would be able to relax as the other two idiots raced.

Mor and Feyre talked of a few small topics, mostly recommendations for restaurants and shops in town while I enjoyed the fresh air and company.

I gestured for Feyre to take a seat as Mor went over to look over her horse. Her typical roan Veritas waited patiently for her rider. She looked to be a placid mare but when given the rein, she could outrun the wind herself. Mor decided on a light brown riding habit, complete with breeches to allow her to ride without skirts in the way. If Feyre had thought this unusual, she had yet to comment on it.

Cassian was already astride his white stallion, aptly named White. The name had come from some of the town kids who pleaded with Cas to be allowed to name his horse. Cas may have a large personality but was soft at heart.

I explained all of this to Feyre as I poured her lemonade and took a seat beside her, waiting on the riders to be ready.

“I have to say, after that information, I think I would like to place my money on Miss Night,” Feyre remarked. Mor must have overheard her and let out a whoop of triumph.

“It sounds as though you have no faith in me, Miss Acheron,” Cas called out. “How much would you like to wager.”

“We both have too much money for betting marks to be fun, what might tempt you instead?” she returned.

“The location of your roaming cat, perhaps?” Cas said so fast that there was no way he thought it through.

Feyre looked Cassian and his horse up and down, contemplating if the stakes merited the reward. “Deal,” she finally said. “If Miss Night wins, you must give up drinking for a month.”

“What!” he exclaimed. I let out a startled laugh at her wager, she must know that Cas was too fond of the drink to risk losing it for so long.

Mor was laughing so hard that she nearly fell off of Veritas. Cassian opened and closed his mouth, making him look like a fish out of water, which caused Feyre to begin to chuckle.

“You drive a hard bargain, but I accept your wager, Miss Archeron. I can only hope you’re prepared to make good on your promise.”

“On my honor, Mr. Monte,” she promised with a mischievous light in her eyes. She threw me a wink, confident that she would be the winner of the bet.

“The race will be three laps. You must go around the pond, behind the oak on the far side of the field and then return on the opposite side of the pond,” Az stated. “I do not want to see any interference with the other rider, this will be a nice, clean race, otherwise you will be disqualified. We don’t need to send for the doctor today,” he finished with a serious look at the two. The nodded back, ready and focused to start.

“Line up,” the command rung out.

Feyre leaned back in her chair and sipped on her lemonade, the picture of ease.

“On my mark. Go!” Azriel brought down his white handkerchief and the two shot forward.

Thundering hooves filled the air but quickly faded as the two galloped up the side of the pond. Azriel claimed a seat at the other table, quietly observing the race to make sure that neither of them pulled any tricks.

“It seems as though the two are evening matched, both of their seats are solid and impeccable,” Feyre comments, her eyes tracking them.

“Are you a horsewoman, Miss Archeron?” I asked.

“Hardly, I was raised to notice such things as a lady, so that I may remark on tedious details when conversations begin to die out.”

“I see.”

“That is twice that you have mentioned calling for the doctor, do all of your bets and competitions carry the possibility of injury?”

I chuckled, pulling a platter of pastries closer. “Mor said that lemon tarts were your favorite.”  
“Yes, thank you,” she said, “But you cannot avoid my question.”

“No, most of our games are relatively tame, battles of wit or observation, rarely do they become so physical. This is one of those incidences.”

Mor had pulled out ahead when she rounded the tree and now shot by us, Feyre clapped her hand in encouragement. Cassian was too focused on Mor’s back to give us any dirty looks.

“So how is Cassian when he doesn’t have any alcohol in his system?” Feyre wondered aloud, still focused on the race.

Azriel was the one to answer this time. “Absolutely unmanageable.” All three of them laughed at that. They had almost reached the tree again, Cassian looked to be catching up but Mor still had the lead by quite a bit.

“How did you endure your introduction to Velaris society?” I asked quietly. I didn’t want to seem like a nosey nuisance, but I was willing to bet she had some strong opinions about the gentry.

Feyre delicately bit into a tart, chewing carefully as she regarded her next words. “Many were polite, if not a bit distant, but that is only to be expected with new acquaintances. Some were too bold in their questions, but I must blame that on myself for allowing the champagne to flow so freely.”

I nodded my agreement as we watched the two enter the final lap. Mor was only in the lead by half a length, Cassian had somehow hunched even lower over White’s head, urging the horse to go even faster.

“Are you worried, Miss Archeron, that you may have to give the location of your cat to Mr. Monte?” I said to her in a low tone, keeping the conversation private from Azriel.

She looked over to me, studying my face. I tried to keep any emotions clear from it, but her blue eyes pierced into mine like she was able to strip away any pretense and see straight through my intentions.

My breath was at risk of getting caught in my throat. Freckles splashed across her nose, drawing attention to her high cheekbones. Streaks of gray broke up the blue in her eyes, the imperfection making them only more memorizing. Her full lips parted, showing the barest hint of straight, white teeth. My eyes flickered down to watch their movement and then retreated to meet her gaze again.

Feyre leaned towards me, almost imperceptibly, causing me to meet her inch for inch.

“No, Mr. Night,” her breath was sweet with lemon, “I’m not worried at all.”

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because I have the feeling that there is only one person in present company that will be able to catch her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops decided to break the chapters up because it was getting a bit long so stay tuned next time!


	4. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter! Also, I have some exams, but I have already finished 5 and started 6 so I think they’ll be out on time!  
> Oh, P.S. I guess that means I’m posting every two days :)

A loud whoop of triumph startled us apart. Cassian was prancing around on his horse, doing a bad rendition of a victory dance jig. Mor looked ready to start spewing flames at him, her horse breathing hard underneath her.

“Pay up, Miss Archeron! I won!” he shouted.

“Only because you cut me off on the last turn,” Mor argued. All of us looked to Azriel for the verdict.  
“Cassian won, he had the space to make the turn,” he decided. Mor let out a loud groan of protest while Cas continued to do his jig.

Mor slipped off her horse and collapsed in the chair beside Feyre, shoving a chocolate croissant in her mouth as recompense.

Feyre patted her hand in comfort and offered more pastries to comfort her.

“Well, Miss Archeron?” Cassian stood in front of them, his arms crossed in expectation.

“You are in luck, Mr. Monte. She decided to accompany me today and I saw her wandering around the hedges earlier,” she said, gesturing to the garden behind us. “I hope there aren’t any birds around here that you are fond of.”

“Oh really, how about you call to her and prove your word?” Cas challenged, clearly disbelieving that the cat was so nearby.

“That was not the agreed-upon bet, Mr. Monte. You asked for the location and I have provided it, just because I am her owner does not mean I am her master,” Feyre smoothly countered. She would not be bullied to divulge more information than she promised.

Cassian, not used to being denied, put a hand on the table and leaned forward, giving his best attempted at a charming grin. Which to say, was not a very good attempt.

“Then how about you join me on a walk through the gardens and perhaps she will want to say hello,” he purred. I was frozen in time, half hoping that she would say no and half wanting to shove Cas away.

Feyre gave Cassian a scathing once over and said, “Thank you for the offer but I’m in perfectly good company here. Run along now,” punctuating the end of her sentence with a dainty sip of her lemonade.

All of us paused, looking at either Feyre or Cas to see who would break eye contact first.

Cassian tipped his head back and roared with laughter. We all joined in, even Feyre, as Cassian took a seat at Az’s table and helped himself to a sandwich.

The rest of the afternoon was lighthearted and easy, Mor was willing to forget her loss for a bit and Cassian kept the gloating to a minimum.

Mor stretched, “I need a walk around the grounds to work off those pastries before dinner, anyone else care to join?”

I rose to my feet, offering my arm to Feyre, hoping she would take it over opting to walk on Mor’s arm. She accepted it happily while continuing her conversation with Azriel on a recent book that was published.

The whole party meandered through the garden and then continued into the patch of forest that was opposite of the stables. The cool shade was a relief after the tireless sun, all of us would be a bit darker the next day from our time spent out of doors.

“Now that you’ve seen the rest of the grounds, do they indeed match the house?” I asked Feyre, looking for her approval.

“I must say that they are even better, I will leave today with fresh ideas to put onto canvas,” she stated. Everywhere she looked, it was like a blind person had been suddenly gifted sight. No leaf went unnoticed, no flower wasn’t admired. She even studied her companions as if contemplating how they might be forever captured in a painting.

“Well then I look forward to your next masterpiece.”

“What makes you think that you shall see it, Mr. Night?” she asked with a wicked grin.

“I feel as though luck is on my side,” I shot back.

A secretive smile was her only response. We all turned back to find our way to the house, dinner would be served soon, and to be late for the cook was like signing your death warrant.

While we settled in the library to wait for dinner to be served, Feyre trailed her fingers over the spines of the books, reading the titles.

“Any look to be to your liking, Miss Archeron?” I asked.

“I’ve read a few of these, but most of my time is spent painting,” she admitted with a slight blush.

“Here,” I reached past her, my sleeve brushing her shoulder, “This is one of my favorites.” I retracted my arm with the book in hand, pressing it into her grip.

“Arabian Nights, sounds exotic,” she read the title.

“A bit, my mother used to read it to me before bed,” I told her, my voice soft with the memory.

“That sounds like a lovely time,” she whispered, looking up from the cover to meet my eyes.

“It was.”

She looked like she was going to ask more questions, but the steward announced that dinner was served. I offered my arm to her and she took it, a distant look clouded her face.

I sat at the head of the table with Feyre on my right and Mor on her other side. Cas sat opposite of Feyre and Azriel opposite of Mor.

The first course was set before us and our wine glasses were filled. Cassian looked extremely happy that he was still able to partake in his usual practices, drinking deeply.

“Well Miss Archeron, you have caused quite the intrigue here, where are you from?” Cas directed towards her after finishing his first glass.

“ _Cassian_ ,” I hissed through my teeth.

“I don’t mind,” Feyre said, resting her hand briefly on my arm. The too-quick contact sent electric shocks up my arm.

“I’m from a small town in the middle of nowhere, no one knows it. My family didn’t have much, but my mother saw to me and my sister’s education early on. She had big dreams for us.”

“That’s quite impressive,” I blurted out, “Because of your current station in life,” I hastily added.

“It is,” she said with a smile, “I made my fortune with my paintings. I got lucky with an apprenticeship and a traveling noble. They saw my work and the rest is history.” She took a sip of her wine, humming appreciatively at its flavor.

“Quite lucky indeed,” Mor agreed, digging into her meal.

The conversation fell into other topics as we ate through the other courses. Feyre was more than happy to participate in all subjects, showing no hesitation in opening herself up.

She was unlike any other gentry I had met. The women were usually too preoccupied with monopolizing my attention to come up with any topics of interest. Or they played the meek card and spent the evening making eyes at me hoping that I would propose on the spot.

The gentlemen would have too many questions about my business and how they would be delighted to draw up a contract between us or attempt to assert than own dominance over me. It all got so tiresome so fast.

Feyre was a breath of fresh air, sweeping through the room with her bright laugh and easy manner. She could easily ramp up or calm down the tensions between Mor and Cas, teasing and soothing at the same time. She never held back her opinion, ready to defend it or amend it when new information was presented.

Time disappeared when she was around. The last course was cleared away and we moved to the entryway for goodbyes.

“Thank you so much for a most engaging day,” she curtsied. We bowed in response; all a bit crestfallen that the evening had come to an end.

“We must do this again,” Mor said, taking her hand.

“Yes. Unfortunately, I will be in high demand for a bit, but I will send word soon inviting you all to a private dinner at my estate,” she promised.

“May I walk you to your carriage, Miss Archeron?” I asked.

“Of course,” she dipped her head. I opened the front door, escorting her down the steps.

Her carriage waited patiently; the door already open. I offered my hand, helping her in. I closed the door and paused, opening my mouth to give some parting words.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Mr. Night,” she said with a secretive smile.

These words felt different than the promise she issued in the house to the rest of my family. My stomach twisted at the opportunity to see her again.

She thumped the top of her carriage, signaling her driver to ride on. I remained standing there, tongue-tied with my final words left unformed on my lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So initially Mor was going to win but then the Feyre/Cas wager came along and it was too tempting to fuck with the Bat Bros to pass up.  
> Too much bickering and competition? Too little? Lmk please!


	5. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think next chapter we will return to Feyre’s point of view and see how she’s handling all of her new suitors! (Hint: it’s not going well for them).

It had been two whole days since Feyre had left their estate after the race. Two whole days and not a word from her.

I scolded myself for selfishly wanting to hear from her. _She’s probably too busy with all of her new suitors and friends._ _But she_ had _promised to see me soon_.

I fisted my hands over my eyes, blocking out the sunlight that poured into my office. My day had started well enough, until the reports became so boring that my thoughts easily wandered elsewhere.

Mor and the others haven’t brought the subject up, and I wasn’t about to. That would lead to too many questions about why I was showing interest in her.

I stood from my chair, groaning as I stretched out my back that had knotted up in my hours of being there. _A walk into town will clear my head_. And certainly _not_ because I was hoping to run into her. Only to clear my head so that I can refocus on my work, and I can check in with my shopkeepers to see if anything needed to be reordered early.

I reassured myself with an internal nod and made my way to the front door. It was another beautiful sunny day; summer was refusing to release its grasp on Prythian. All the more to get outside and enjoy the weather.

Forgoing my coat that was hanging near the door, I started the walk to town. The house was only a quarter of a mile from the first shops. It allowed me and my family plenty of land to move and breathe away from the hustle and bustle of the town while still being close enough for easy convenience.

A few of the gentry passed me on my way in, all of them in their carriages or buggy. I merely nodded my hellos, not caring if they thought me odd for walking. There were plenty of trees to shade the road, my pace was leisurely enough that only a light sweat cooled my face. Maybe I could stop by many of the cafés for a cool drink, Sevenda probably had a new concoction for me to try.

Soon, the hum of people began to filter through the trees. Brightly painted shops peaked through the leaves. The road became busier with gentry and common folk alike, all off to some place or another in a rush.

I continued my polite greetings and thankfully no one seemed inclined to stop and chat. It all would have been idle nonsense anyways. There was less shade in the town, only a few awnings in front of shops and cafes. Even in my light attire, more sweat gathered and began to run down my back.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Night!” a cheery voice called.

My eyes caught on the slender, dark-haired woman. “Miss Sevenda! Just the woman I was hoping to see!”

“You flatter me, Mr. Night, I know you’re only after my food,” she chuckled as he approached. Sevenda’s family has been a long-term resident of Velaris, her café passed down from generation to generation. It was never one of the favored places of the gentry, too down-to-earth and relaxed for them. They always preferred to dine at one of the restaurants in the town square, where everyone would see them.

“Ah, but today I am after your drinks. Do you have anything new for me to try?”

Her brown eyes twinkled, “You know me too well, I have passion fruit sweet tea that is perfect for a sunny day like this.” She disappeared inside to make my drink while I took a seat on the patio.

There was a steady stream of people in and out of the town, most I knew, some I didn’t. Sevenda returned with the iced sweet tea, giving my arm a friendly squeeze as she returned inside to attend to other customers.

The drink was cool and fruity, just what I was hoping for. Since my shopkeepers didn’t know I was coming, I took my time to sip the drink and enjoy the day. This was exactly what I needed to clear my mind.

_Mmrow?_

The soft sound reached my ears. I looked over my shoulder to see if I could catch the source of it. On the edge of my vision, a dark tail seemed to flicker out of sight.

 _Feyre’s cat?_ _No,_ I shook my head. My brain is playing tricks on me, filling in what I wanted to see. There were plenty of stray cats that lived in the alleys. It was probably one of them lured to Sevenda’s cooking.

I finished my drink, suddenly anxious to get moving again. I had come to town with the purpose of getting Feyre _out_ of my head.

Leaving my payment on the table, I called my farewells and continued on. Twisting and turning through the streets, I firmly focused on my route to the store, determined to not be distracted by looking down every alley for a glance of an elusive cat.

Soon, the shopfront for Night Imports came into view. It took up half the block, tall windows shining with all the newest products and intrigues. People bustled in and out, arms laden with packages. It was good to see business so brisk.

I held the door open for some ladies who were exiting, touching the tip of my hat in hello. The turned to each other and giggled, thinking that I wouldn’t notice. My barely contained eyeroll was as much as a reaction I could manage.

“Hello, Mr. Night. What brings you in today? Is there a shipment?” my head shopkeeper, Allison Conray, asked.

“No, Mrs. Conray. The weather was too nice today to pass up a walk and I thought I might check in on the store. How is everything here?”

“Running as smooth as usual, sir. Plenty of orders coming in, I have half a mind to think it’s because of Miss Archeron stirring the town into a buzz. I haven’t gone for one hour without hearing something about her.”

I allowed myself a small smile, “Yes, it seems that way, doesn’t it? You know how new residents can cause quite a commotion.”

“Well, I shall like to meet her myself before buying into all the gossip. From what I’ve heard she’s either an angel sent from the Caldron itself or some six-winged demon from Hell,” Allison declared. That was why I had hired her in the first place. A no-nonsense shopkeeper that kept her employees in line and the business running in my absence.

“I can tell you myself she is neither one of those things,” I said with a chuckle. “Miss Acheron dined with my family two days ago. She was the picture of a lady but quite opinionated. You and she would get along well.”

Allison hummed, taking in my face. Just like Mor, she was a little too good at reading my emotions. She decided to drop the subject and our conversation steered towards inventory and when we should reorder next. Feyre _had_ caused a big influx in business, emptying our shelves almost as fast as we could fill them.

She left one of the senior shopkeepers in charge of the store so we could walk the warehouse in the back. It wasn’t nearly as big as those in the city, but it did the job of keeping the Velaris store stocked, even in times of influx.

Windows high in the air and the large backdoors let in a cool breeze for the workers. I greeted each of them by name as Allison and I walked the rows, making note of what we’ll need to order next. 

A runner found us in the quiet corner, asking Mrs. Conray to return to the front to answer some questions. She excused herself while I continued.

_Mmrow?_

There it was again, the same soft sound that I heard earlier at Sevenda’s. I turned around slowly, not wanting to startle the cat, searching for the source.

There.

At the end of the row sat a tabby with blue eyes, watching me. All cats were able to sit with unnatural stillness but this one added an aura of intelligent observation to the stance. The brass key around her neck glinted softly in the late afternoon light slanting in.

 _Feyre said there would be no mistaking her cat_ , I thought, _this one certainly is undeniably hers._

We stayed there for a minute, watching each other quietly. I slowly knelt to the ground, gingerly extending my hand. Wasn’t that what you’re supposed to do with animals? The cat watched my movements, unfazed at them.

“Hello, darling,” I said softly, waiting for a reaction.

A clatter sounded behind me, followed by the cussing of the workers. I turned to look towards the commotion and when I looked back, the cat had disappeared.

“Damn it,” I muttered and went to go see if everyone was alright.

* * *

I left the store through the back, which was no quieter than the front, but the people here treated me as a respected boss, not a member of high society. They smiled at me with open friendliness and I enquired about their families. It had been too long since I spent an elongated time at the warehouse, I missed the easiness of conversing with my employees.

 _I’ll have to return soon,_ I promised myself. _And_ not _because Feyre’s cat had popped up like it knew I was going to be there._

I had come to town to try and forget about Feyre and her competition, but it had literally come padding right back into my head. As I exited the alleyway from behind the warehouse, I could have sworn there was a cat-shaped shadow being cast down from the rooftops, but when I looked up, there was no trace of the feline.

With a vain hope that I might catch another glimpse of her, I decided to take the roundabout way out of town, and maybe pick up some of Mor’s favorite treats as a nice surprise.

My route took me through the town square, historic yet upscale. To the west was the temple, so that when the sun rose, it shone pale pink, and when the sun set, its great shadow extended over the square.

Shops and restaurants lined the other three sides of the square, some of them as old as the town itself and some of them new and exclusive to the upper class. My family was one of the few that had wanted to protect the history of the square but was ultimately beaten by forward progress. At least the main architectures of the buildings had been protected so that Velaris kept its charm.

When I turned the corner, a large crowd had gathered in front of the temple. Initially, I thought that some of the Priestesses were holding impromptu praise, as they did sometimes, but there was too much excitement in the air.

I drew closer, curiosity driving my feet closer. There on top of one of the arches sat a tabby cat, its coveted key hidden in shadow. With the sun setting behind her, she looked like a newly minted deity, and her followers all gathered at her feet.

The women tittered to each other, gossiping about Feyre’s competition, a mixture of poison and reverence. Children giggled and pointed, only wanting to pet the ‘kitty’. The men jostled into others, trying to get closer to the cat, even though it was nearly thirty feet in the air. A few were discussing attempting to climb the temple, which earned them criticism at defacing a holy place.

The cat seemed perfectly content to watch the scene unfold in front of her, as if marking each reaction below.

I paused a few feet away from the crowd, half-listening to the words swirling around me. She turned her eyes to me, and half-cocked her head as if to say _You want to join in on the conversation?_

 _Great, now I’m having imaginary chats with cats._ I gave the cat a mocking bow of the head and a quick grin, setting off to Mor’s favorite bakery across the square.

I emerged a few minutes later, a box of chocolate croissants in my hands. The cat was still on the temple roof, but when she saw me exit, sprang up to her paws and started to race along the rooftops, parallel to my steps.

Part of the crowd peeled off the follow her, all men making fools of themselves looking up the keep an eye on her while fanatically looking ahead to avoid collision with others.

I kept my pace leisure, watching the show from across the street. The cat leap gaps between building easily, weaving through chimneys and alcoves. She sometimes disappeared from view, causing the men to shout and double back, only for her to reappear at the end of the block, as though patiently waiting for them to catch up.

I continued my way out of town, the cat still following my progress, the chasers still in pursuit. When I passed the last building on the road, I turned around to see the final act.

She paused on the rooftop, tail flicking as if she was slightly annoyed the game had come to an end. The group of men halted, staring up at her. I gave my best salute to the cat and continued on my way down the road to my house.

A cry went up behind me.

Feyre’s cat had disappeared and the men dispersed, grumbling about their loss.


	6. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tamlin, Tamlin, Tamlin, will you ever learn to not be an ass? 
> 
> I'm nearly done with all my college classes! One last exam next week will finish me off!

I rubbed my temples, hoping to dispel the headache that was forming there. Another afternoon, another excruciatingly long lunch with a new family.

Georgiana Russel and her brother, James, had been perfectly polite, but so terribly shallow. It was painful to try and keep up the conversation with them. They had asked questions about my contest, but my perfunctory answers had them soon falling silent, forcing me to fill the silence. I had asked about the shops in town so many times, I suspected that I could draw the map of them from memory.

At least tonight I could enjoy a quiet dinner at my estate, maybe even join the servants in the kitchen instead of being alone in the dining room. It was nice when I had guests, but the room was too empty with just me in it. The servants were all hand-picked by me, loyal and pleasant to talk to, making dinners enjoyable with them.

It was another gorgeous summer day, too nice for me to not be out in it. I had taken my carriage to lunch at the Russel’s but sent it home, stating that I could walk afterwards.

The Russel’s lived on the far end of town, opposite the road that leads to my estate. By walking, I could learn the town on foot, even with my now too familiar knowledge with all the establishments that resided here.

Velaris was a pretty, country town, rich with history and beauty. Even the lower-class homes had an air of cared for dignity, brightly whitewashed and in good repair, unlike the city slums I had seen.

I enjoyed the fresh air and warm sun, the smell of fresh bread wafting from homes and bakeries. The people I passed on the way gave polite nods but started up gossip as soon as my back was turned. Everyone in town now knew who I was, which wouldn’t have been a bad thing if they hadn’t been so vocal about their opinions of me coming to town.

_Wasn’t she seen coming out of Mr. Whittle’s dress shop? You know he specializes in wedding dresses._

_My friend said that_ his _friend knew her in the city, and that’s she’s some kind of witch._

_She’s so nice though._

_I heard she already accepted a proposal of marriage from Tamlin O’Toole, and the two of them are laughing about everyone chasing after the cat._

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Tamlin strutted down the street towards her, as if summoned by the gossip. His eyes lit upon my face, an attempt at a charming smile twisting his lips into something nasty.

“Miss Archeron, how fortunate to run into you,” he said, bowing slightly at the waist. He took my gloved hand in his, his lips lingering at my knuckles as our eyes met.

“Mr. O’Toole,” was all I said in greeting, gently pulling my hand back to my side.

“What brings you to town on this fine day?”

“I just finished lunch at the Russel’s.”

His nose crinkled slightly in distaste. “Yes, the Russel’s. Miss Georgiana is nice enough,” he said with a slight leer, “but her brother leaves one wanting,” an obvious stab.

My temper flared at his blatant criticism. “I found them to be perfectly lovely people,” _unlike those in front of me_. A tiny, partial white lie but I didn’t like how easily he insulted people for his own perceived gain. 

“Ah, of course. Well,” shaking off my comment, “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight?”

“No, I’m sorry, I have other plans,” I lied, ready to leave his presence.

“Then how about another night this week?” he pressed.

“I have other engagements,” I said.

“Then how about afternoon tea right now? I know a lovely place near the town square.”  
 _He is not going to give up until I say yes._ “Why not, I have some time before dinner,” I agreed, lightly taking the arm he offered.

We chatted of simple, inane things on the way to the tea shop. Most of it was spent of me delicately maneuvering around his barbed comments of other families and members of the society.

The tea shop was quite nice, if not a bit stuffy. Somewhere I would not have chosen on my own. It was a place to be seen, not to enjoy. We sat on the front patio, shaded by pastel umbrellas.

Tamlin did all the ordering, assuring me that he knew what was best at the place. The wait staff clearly recognized him, obvious in their polite smiles and too stiff backs. My eyes narrowed slightly, watching the interaction. He gave direct orders to what we (he) wanted and did not thank the waitress, his eyes lingering a bit too long on her retreating form.

Their tea and pastries soon appeared in front of them. Green tea and raspberry scones, her least favorites.

_Thirty minutes, endure this for thirty minutes and then escape._

It was all I could do to politely take small sips of the bitter tea and tiny bites of the scones. At least I could use the excuse that I had already eaten.

Tamlin dominated the conversation, barely pausing for my opinion on anything, because “I was new to town and couldn’t possibly understand the long-standing politics.”

“The Night family has been causing problems for generations,” Tamlin scowled, finally catching my full attention.

“Oh?” I straightened slightly. Tamlin saw the shift in my demeanor, interpreting it as interest in his black words.

“Yes, they always think they’re too good for everyone else,” he continued, “they don’t even have any noble blood in them, unlike my family.”

“Yes, you never fail to bring it up,” a new voice cut in, “Was it your great or great-great-grandfather who was a baron, Mr. O’Toole, before your family fell from grace?”

Tamlin flushed an ugly shade of red, glaring up at the person who had appeared at my shoulder. I twisted to meet their gaze, already knowing who it was.

“Mr. Night, we were just talking about you,” I greeted smoothly, adding a bit of humor to my voice.

“Oh?” he asked, returned my mischievous tone.

“All good things, of course,” I added, continuing our private joke while Tamlin continued to turn different colors. “What brings you to town?”

“I was checking in on my employees, making sure the store is running smoothly.”

“And is it?” not caring that I was excluding Tamlin from the conversation while he floundered to cut in.

“Yes, even with you causing quite a stir in my inventory,” he chuckled.  
“Then I wholeheartedly apologize,” I said, laying a hand over my heart. We held each other’s eyes, taking in the other’s amusement.

“Miss Archeron—,” Tamlin tried to cut in.

“Miss Archeron, I also carry a message from Morrigan, may I walk you out of town and deliver it?” he asked. “I’m sure Mr. O’Toole doesn’t mind as it is of the most urgent matter,” Rhys said, cutting a glare to my unsavory tea partner.

“I—no, I don’t,” he gritted through his teeth, “I hope all is well.”

Rhys offered his arm to me and I let him lead me away.

As an afterthought, I half-turned around to call out, “Thank you for the tea, Mr. O’Toole, have a pleasant rest of your day.”

We continued on, weaving through the square until we were well out of earshot.

“I figured I would return the favor from the ball; it did not look like you were enjoying yourself with Mr. O’Toole.”

“You would be quite right, Mr. Night, and for that, I must thank you. So there is no matter pertaining to Miss Night?”

“Other than the usual bickering with Cassian and wishing to have you over again,” he said, glancing out of the corner of his eye for my reaction.

“We shall have to remedy that; I would like to invite you and your family to dine with me tomorrow for dinner. I have a blissful evening off.”

“Please don’t allow us to disrupt your peace, I’m sure you need some time to recover from your introduction to society,” he scrambled to say, obviously not sure if I was being polite or truly enjoyed their company.

It being the latter, I reassured him that it would be most refreshing to have company that didn’t form pounding headaches for me.

He laughed at that, a deep, rich sound. “Give Mor and Cassian enough time in your presence and your opinion will change.”

I joined in on his laugh, the sounds mixing pleasantly in the afternoon air. We had reached the edge of town at this point and its noise faded behind us. Birdsong filled the space around up, wind rustled the leaves above us.

We both paused, knowing that he would need to go left to return to his house while I continued forward. My reluctancy to leave him was reflected in his face, us not wanting the walk to end.

The sun filtered down, highlighting the silver flecks in his eyes. _Like stars trapped from the heavens_ , I mused. My fingers itched to put them onto paper, to invite him to my home, and have him sit for hours just so I could render them perfectly. _And enjoy his easy company._ I flushed slightly, hoping that he couldn’t read my thoughts with his intense gaze.

Rhys gently grasped my hand, looking for any indication that his attention may be unwanted. He broke our gaze to study my lace-covered palm as if it was the pinnacle of his world.

He lowered his head and brushed his lips on my wrist, his eyes flicking up to meet mine again.

“I will see you at dinner tomorrow, Miss Archeron,” he nearly purred. I barely suppressed a shiver down my spine at his velvet voice.

“Until tomorrow, Mr. Night,” I breathed, slipping my hand from his before anyone saw the elicit exchange. I turned away and carried on down the road, his gaze burning into my back, creating an unprecedented warmth in my chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m taking a few days break to catch up on writing, but I will return on Friday! I want to map out the next few chapters. If there's anything special you want to see, speak now or forever hold your peace.
> 
> Is it obvious enough that I don’t like Tamlin? From my Googling, Baron is the lowest rank in the gentry.


	7. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incoming fluff! Also, this is my first fic to reach 100 kudos and it couldn’t have happened without y’all! <<<<3333

The shadows of light coming from the fire in my room played with the dark curtains of my canopy. The clock had struck midnight too long ago. Another sleepless night to haunt me.

Usually they come from stress; a problem with my company or a fight within the family, but never from thoughts of a woman.

Dinner with Feyre and my family had been a few nights ago. Her house had been large but familiar, touches of her in every room, making it feel like a home. She had welcomed us with open arms, personally greeting us instead of a servant letting our group in. She gave us a tour of her new household, promising that we could walk the gardens another time when it was light out.

The paintings, I now knew, made by her hand, afforded me a deeper look into who she is. They were in every room, each chosen to suit the theme of the space. Massive landscapes for the ballroom, opening the room up to make it feel larger than it is. Her sitting room had portraits of what I could only assume was her family, which was then confirmed when Cas opened his mouth and asked who the cold-eyed woman was in one of them.

“My sister, Nesta. She lives in Fesa,” her tone was distant, if not sad. Cassian looked ready to ask more questions before I cut him off.

Dinner was… phenomenal. Not the food or décor, which was wonderful, but she was the star that illuminated the room. If it wasn’t for her amazing cook, I would have forgotten to eat, too absorbed by her.

Several times I had to catch myself from using her first name, as I did with Mor, Cas, and Az. She made it so easy to feel familiar around her, to want to break down all barriers and be completely at home. She led every conversation with ease, knowing when to push forward a new topic or when to expand her thoughts on the existing one. There was no end to her wit, laughter was in abundance from everyone.

I smiled up at my ceiling, the warmth in my chest blooming at remembering that evening. How was I already so taken with this woman having only known her for less than two weeks? It was ridiculous. It was unfair. It was… my greatest happiness in life.

I flipped over to groan into my pillow, something I hadn’t done since I was a child. This was the only way I could physically manifest my frustration. My lungs filled with the scent of fresh laundry, slightly settling my nerves. I exhaled slowly, attempting to push out the butterflies in my stomach.

I kept up the breathing pattern, each release dropping me down further into the sweet arms of sleep, finally saving me from my thoughts of her.

* * *

**October**

Crisp autumn leaves floated on the breeze. Shouts high and low rang through the orchard.

“I bet I can pick the highest apple!” the declaration came from above. Cassian had taken it upon himself to forgo the ladder and scale the branches himself.

“Not fair, Cassian! I can’t climb in a dress!” Mor pouted from below. She was at the final rung of her ladder, straining to try and pick apples from there. She glared up and over at the next tree where Cas had settled himself onto a branch that looked like it could barely hold his weight.

“It’s not my fault you decided to look festive rather than be practical,” he retorted, stretching up to try and pick an apple that was just out of reach.

Mor scowled, “I won’t apologize for one of us needing a sense of style.”

Azriel, ever the mother hen, looked on from below, ready to run for the doctor that was a few rows over with his family.

“It doesn’t count, Mr. Monte, if you fall down instead of climbing down,” Feyre called up to him. She was dressed in a simple brown dress with a cream shawl belted at her waist. I chuckled and shouted my agreement.

It was the Harvest Festival in Velaris. Every year it starts with landowners opening up their orchards to the town for apple picking and games. I invited Feyre to accompany us since it was her first holiday in town. She happily agreed and expressed excitement to experience the weeklong festivities with us.

A month ago, Prythian finally signaled for the end of summer and for fall to begin. Gone were the easy days of relaxing in the sun. Soon governments would be starting up from the summer recess in the main cities, and with it, much of the gentry followed. No more being entertained at balls or long rides through the countryside. Most would flock to their townhomes in the city, to spread gossip of summer romances and trysts.

Yes, the majority of the gentry would be going away, but would that also include Feyre?

It had been about a month and a half since she settled into her estate, surely, she didn’t mean to abandon it so soon?

These questions had plagued me for a week until Feyre finally put my mind to rest when she mentioned at a dinner that she intended to stay in Velaris for the winter. She had no interest in being cooped up in the city, preferring the open freedom that the countryside afforded in the dark and dreary months that were to come.

I privately celebrated at the prospect of being able to spend more time with her, with all of her other acquaintances traveling to various cities. The absence of the majority of the gentry would be a much-needed reprieve from their endless engagements. My only concerns would be the influx of business in my city stores and warehouses, which would occasionally merit business trips to handle the affairs. I was lucky to arrive back from one of those business trips two days before the festival began.

“Alright, Miss Archeron, shall we see if we can beat him?” I turned towards her, ready to offer my assistance by holding her ladder when I discovered that Feyre had disappeared.

I turned in a full circle, absolutely bewildered at how she managed to slip away so silently and quickly. The crackling of leaves caught my attention. I turned towards where I thought the source of the sound was, and….

_There._

A tabby colored cat slinked behind a tree, nearly camouflaged by the dappling shadows of the afternoon. I only caught sight of it because of the noise.

I crept forward, the dried leaves not doing anything to help conceal my steps. _Surely that can’t be Feyre’s cat, she would never be in such an open space… but I know her form so well now…_

I rounded the back of the tree where the cat had hidden. She had let me get close a number of times but never more than a few feet. Rustling came from above my head. A tail twitched out of sight in the thick foliage.

_Perhaps she’s tired of being in town and came to see what all the noise was about._

I readied myself to call out to Feyre, who surely, she couldn’t have gone far.

“You’ll have to climb higher than that, Mr. Monte, if you want to win the bet!” a clear voice full of hidden humor shouted from above me.

I dashed forward a few steps so that I could tilt my head back far enough to see her. My mouth fell open in complete shock. While I was looking for the cat, Feyre had somehow climbed one of the tallest trees in the orchard, beating Cas’s current height by at least fifteen feet. Her tree was only one over from where I saw the cat, so how come I didn’t hear her climb it?

I didn’t have to see the other’s faces to know that there was shock on theirs as well.

She waved and laughed at us, reaching up to pluck what was unarguably, the highest apple in the land.

* * *

**December**

Feyre’s blue eyes were unusually grey, even with the overcast weather. Whenever she was stressed or upset, they settled into a stormy grey, so at odds with her bright personality.

I had invited her on a sleigh ride, common for the town of Velaris when Yuletide grew near. Everyone in town, common folk and gentry alike, would take to the roads and hills, enjoying the simple pleasure of fresh snowfall.

Parents pulled their kids on sleds, their cheeks rosy with the cold and exertion from the constant smiles. Shrieks of excitement echoed between the trees from families sledding down the larger hills, laughter was all around.

“Alright, darling, what’s wrong?” I ventured, testing my luck using the casual endearment.

She stiffened, glancing off to the side at the question. _Had I presumed our relationship not to be so familiar?_

I waited on her response, learning over the past few months that it was better to let her gather her thoughts.

Feyre let out a sigh, her breath puffing white into the frozen air. She shifted slightly closer to me underneath the thick blanket I had draped over us at the beginning.

“The winter holidays are always hard for me. It’s when my mother died,” she admitted.

I quietly absorbed her words. She had talked about her mom in the past, I gathered that she wasn’t around anymore.

“My mother and sister died in the spring. I understand that some of the most beautiful times of the year can also be the most painful,” baring a piece of my soul in return.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“It was a long time ago. Most of the pain had faded but it’s like an old battle wound, it can ache when memories are brought to the surface.”

She shifted closer to me again, legs and arms brushing. Our shared warmth was all we needed to soothe the pain of past memories.

“Want to see if we can overtake Mor and Cassian?” I jested.

“Yes,” light flooded back into her eyes at my suggestion. She looped her arm through mine to steady herself.

“Yah!” I shouted, snapping the reins to urge the horses in a gallop.

Our laughter rang through the air, mingling with those around us.

* * *

**February**

“I’m so borrrrrrred,” Mor groaned, draping herself over the arm of the chair she had perched on. Freezing rain sluiced down the windows, trapping us all inside. Feyre had invited us over for afternoon tea and while we were inside, the weather had taken a turn for the worse.

It seemed that Prythian was refusing to loosen its grip on winter, punishing us with days of clouds and cold winds.

Normally we would have laughed at Mor’s dramatics, but the weather was affecting everyone’s mood, making us all restless and antsy. We were ready for the days of warm weather and bright skies.

“Feyre,” the two women had become close enough in the past several months that they could now use each other’s first names. “You have yet to give us a demonstration of your artistic skills. Will you do our portraits?”

Feyre looked up from where she was sketching on the windowsill. I glanced over from my nearby chair, gaging her reaction. Although Feyre and I have discussed her art at length, she has never done a public demonstration of her process.

“I’m not sure...” she edged, looking a bit nervous.

“Pleasssssseeeeeee,” Mor opened her eyes real wide, giving her best puppy dog expression. I was about to tell Mor to back down when Feyre gave her a small smile.

“Alright, drag a chair over here and face the window. We’ll have the best lighting that way.

Cassian hopped up and bounced over to sit by Feyre to he can watch her draw. Az took the wall on the other side while I adjusted my posture so that I could also watch as her hand started to fly across the page.

Mor decided to straighten her back and adopt a regal, distant look. A queen of a far-off realm.

“Her ears are way bigger than that!” Cas interjected after a few minutes of quiet sketching. Mor let out an offended gasp while the rest of us burst out laughing.

The mood in the room collectivity lifted, pushing away the gray mood. We continued through Cas and Az’s portraits, making comments and jests about how each other looked. Feyre took all the chatter in stride, briefly adding the suggestion and the quickly smoothing it over.

“You know Cassian’s mouth is huge with all of his gossiping and bad flirting.”

“Azriel looks much grumpier than that, make his eyebrows thicker and closer together.”

An hour later, Mor, Cas, and Az all had individual portraits done in grayscale. Feyre had rendered them beautifully and the trio retreated to the far end of the room to marvel over them and compare the drawings to their faces in the mirror.

“Your turn,” she said, turning her blue eyes to me. There was a slight flush to her cheeks, which I attributed to the merriment in the room. My cheeks flushed to match hers, unsure if I was ready to see how I looked through her eyes.

I closed the book I had barely been paying attention to before and moved to the chair. At first, I sat completely stiff, unsure of how I should pose myself. All of my normal confidence evaporated under her scrutiny.

I had caught her staring at me before, as if memorizing everything she could of me but when I caught her, she was always first to look away, embarrassed at being noticed. Now it was my turn to lose my nerve.

She let out a giggle, “Relax, Mr. Night, I won’t bite,” she teased with a quick flash of teeth.

I forced a quiet breath through my nose and unfroze my limbs. Crossing one leg over the other, I slung an arm over the back of the chair, trying to adopt a casual pose.

Feyre hummed in appreciation and her pencil started up again. Even when I wasn’t sneaking peeks at her, I could feel her eyes tracing my form like a lover’s caress. My cheeks heated even more under her careful gaze as she continued.

From time to time the sound of her sketching would stop and she would simply stare. Now that she had an open invitation to study me, it seemed like she wouldn’t let the opportunity pass without using every second of it.

“Did you know,” she started quietly, “That your eyes are the exact shade of violet of the sky right after dusk. I don’t think I can do them justice with only a pencil.”

I hesitated, unsure if I could respond without breaking the bubble we had created. I wasn’t even sure if she had meant to say that comment out loud or if it had slipped out while she was lost in the drawing.

“Don’t move.”

Feyre got up and made a quick trip to the hutch that was in the corner. The sounds of drawers opening and closing reached my ears. She returned with a small tin that she opened and began rooting through.   
“Ah,” was the only noise that came from her mouth. I assumed she found what she was looking for as the pencil began again on the page. The others had taken seats near the fireplace, allowing us to continue to have a private moment.

Minutes ticked by on the clock, but I couldn’t find myself becoming bored. I was completely focused on any sound that came from her, entranced by how she managed to make the whole world slip away.

If my legs had become numb, I didn’t notice. If I had gone blind from the light coming in through the window, then so be it. If the rest of the world had faded away and we were the only two beings left in existence, then I was the happiest man in the universe.

“Done.” The word was so quiet that I almost missed it. A few of my joints popped as I pivoted towards her to see the final result. She shifted over on the window seat, an invitation to join her there. I stood up, briefly stretching my stiff muscles and perched carefully beside her, making sure to leave an appropriate amount of room between us.

My eyes flicked to her face first, making sure it was okay for me to look. She redirected my attention to the sketch pad.

I couldn’t stop my gasp. The portrait was the work of a master. Feyre had only added color to my eyes, making them stand out from the rest of my face. Purples and blues swirled together, broken up by silver flecks. She had trapped a galaxy in my eyes.

I looked to her; my mouth slightly agape. Feyre was already studying me, watching my reaction.

“I… I have no words,” I finally managed to get out. She smiled at them and looked down at the drawing again.

“Is this how you see me?” I dared to ask.

She met my eyes again, the warmth in there causing me to move closer to catch every word.

“This is how I see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I just realized I never put Amren into the story. I hope she doesn’t eat me alive o_O


	8. Rhysand

The easy canter of my horse rocked me into comfort. Another fine day in Prythian, but now without a hint of chill to the morning air.

Leaves started to bud on the trees again, spring had officially come to the land. The town was filling again with the gentry, no more quiet streets and leisurely, uninterrupted walks through the town.

As business became brisk with their return, the business trips I needed to take became fewer and fewer, allowing me more time for the countryside. And for Feyre.

Dinners were almost a weekly occurrence, both parties always making sure to have a day open to dine with us at either our estate or hers.

In town, tea times were interspersed here and there, whenever we ran into each other. Those were the only times that I was able to be alone with her, even if we were out in the middle of public. I would like to think that we had grown closer in that time, learning each other’s past, present, and aspirations for the future.

No one still had been able to win the key from around her cat’s neck. Most had lost interest, sulking off to lick their wounds and curse her existence. A few had sworn off associating with Feyre completely, calling her all manner of foul words behind her back. If she was distressed by their words or the lack of interest in her contest, she did not show it.

I still saw the cat from time to time, on rooftops, and occasionally when I was at my store checking in on things. If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was keeping tabs on me, but it was a cat. An intelligent one with a keen sense for avoiding other people but a cat, nonetheless.

I returned to the present. It seemed like my brain was determined to stay on the subject of Feyre Archeron. A pile of paperwork remained on my desk, but it was going to be another day lost to what my heart wanted.

I turned my horse around, following the curve of the hill until I reached the road into town. If I was lucky, perhaps I would run into Feyre and we could go to Sevenda’s together. I had introduced it to her a few weeks into our friendship and she had instantly fallen in love with the little café.

As I got closer to town, I slowed my horse to a slow trot, wary of the townsfolk that had appeared on the road. More than usual for this time of day. I slowed even more to a walk, my brow furrowing in confusion. The next holiday was still a few weeks off and preparations would not start until closer to it.

From their facial expressions, they looked to be an odd combination of excited and concerned. _Had the priestesses announced a vision? Or perhaps there’s been news from the city?_

I continued on; any news that tried to reach my ears was drowned out by the clopping of my horse’s hooves. I kept a sharp eye out for Feyre, hoping to see her twisting through the crowds.

Arriving at Sevenda’s, I dismounted, tying my horse to a nearby watering trough. Her café was busier than usual, bodies rushing in and out, head bent together in conversation over tables. I stepped into the small but cozy space, Sevenda was behind the counter, rushing back and forth between customers. It was unusual for her to not greet me when I arrived.

“Hello, Miss Sevenda, you’re busy today,” I said, managing to catch her attention on one of her passes.

“Oh! Hello, Mr. Night. Yes, it seems like the whole town has taken to the streets today,” she responded, avoiding my eyes. “Is there anything I can get you?”

I leaned forward, trying to catch her gaze. She turned a bit more, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Miss Sevenda, what’s happened?” dread pooled in my gut, I had never seen her this way.   
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Night. I know how close you two were getting,” she said quietly, my ear nearly not catching her words.  
“What?” I breathed, “Miss Sevenda, tell me what you mean right now or I will suspect the worst.”  
She finally turned towards me, worry etched into her features.

“Tamlin O’Toole has captured Feyre’s cat and will be presenting the key to her at dinner tomorrow night at his house.”

It was like all air had been sucked out of my lungs. Out of the world. Black and white stars swam in vision, my legs suddenly weak.

“Breathe, Rhys,” she pleaded.

I forced a deep breath in, the noise of the inhale thankfully lost in the noise of the room. My world falling to pieces had happened so fast that no one else had noticed.

“The news came in with the morning deliveries. There were a few witnesses to it,” she continued, thinking more information would help me. “Tamlin was spotted near your warehouse last night. At first, people were alarmed that he was going to try to sabotage your business but before anyone went to get the police, they heard a loud yowl from what sounded like a cat. This morning, he sent out his servants to prepared for a dinner at his place and a messenger to Feyre’s house inviting her there tomorrow.”

Each word dropped my heart further and further into my stomach. Sevenda continued on but her words faded into the background.

Blood roared in my ears. My heart pounded, threatening to escape my chest. I slipped my arms off the counter, stumbling slightly at I turned to exit the café. Suddenly, Sevenda was in front of me. Her mouth was moving but I could hear her over the blankness that had taken over my brain. She saw how empty my eyes had become and moved aside, letting me continue on my way.

I remotely untied my horse but didn’t mount him. Not ready to go home yet, I aimlessly wandered the streets with him in tow, not caring who saw me.

Faceless bodies blurred in the periphery of my vision; the sounds of the world were slow to return.

A shadow blocked out the sun, startling me from my abyss. I had walked across town and now stood in front of Tamlin’s house. He lived a few blocks from the town square, but whereas his neighbors had towering townhomes, he had managed to carve out almost an acre estate on the street.

Tall wrought iron fence wrapped around the perimeter, cutting off the property from the outside world.

 _Feyre would hate living here,_ the thought crossed my mind, tasting bitter in my mouth. She loved her wide-open land and the freedom it brought. Not this brick monstrosity that was out of place in the town. Its feigned openness with its large green lawn that set the house back from the street, but any half-wit could see that it was just a large cage.

The street was so quiet, at odds with the teeming life that was only a few streets away. The absence of sound nearly made the ringing come back to my ears, driving me to turn my horse away so I could escape Feyre’s near future.

But then,

A faint sound.

_Where?_

I turned back to the house. It came again.

_There._

The sound of a cat in distress, high pitched and desperate.

 _Could it be? No,_ I wouldn’t let myself hope that much. As far as I knew, Tamlin had captured the cat without harming her, therefore winning Feyre’s contest fair and square.

 _But what if…_ I owed it to my friendship with Feyre to check to make sure that the cat was okay. A quick peek in the window and I would make my peace with losing her to him.

I tied my horse to a nearby tree, just out of sight of the house, and crept down the narrow alleyway.

The space between the fence and the house was small here, only a few feet wide, allowing me to see into the first floor. The inside was just as stuck up and opulent as the outside.

 _There._ A servant was carrying up a large cage and in it was Feyre’s cat. It refused to stop yowling, even when Tamlin’s voice shouted at it from somewhere around the corner.

Just before the servant disappeared from sight with her, the cat’s eyes caught mine. She put a paw against the cage.

 _Help me, free me,_ she seemed to say. Just like all those months ago when she was sitting atop the temple, she nearly spoke to me. A voice whispering on the edge of my consciousness.

Tamlin’s large body came into view, cutting off my last glimpse of the cat. I ducked down, in case he turned to see what the cat was focusing on.

Anger, white-hot and burning, bubbled up in my chest. Tamlin had trapped the cat against its will, despite not technically harming it. I slammed my hand against the fence, pain biting into my palm. It rattled loudly against my back.

 _Shit_ , I crept away slowly before someone came out to investigate. Reaching my horse, I untied him and mounted, spurring him down the street.

As his hooves clattered on the cobblestones, the beginnings of a plan formed in my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...whoops


	9. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to all my New Zealand and European readers! I see your time zone in the comments!

Another stuffy house, another long day. The blessed reprieve of the gentry being in the city had ended and with it came the beginning of social calls. Acquaintances returned from the city, simply _begging_ me to call on them so that they could spend the whole afternoon and part of the evening detailing out every social event of the season. This also included thorough backstories of everyone they encountered since I knew none of them.

Most of them I didn’t mind, it was nice to see fresh faces but after a few hours, I was socially exhausted and ready for a hot bath.

 _I wonder if Rhys has to put up with pointless intrigues_. During the winter months, I had grown close to him, and to his family. They were constant bright spots in my life. They had welcomed me with open arms when I first arrived in town, each odd in their own way so they hardly questioned my contest. 

Cassian is always good for a verbal sparring match, making me pull out every piece of knowledge I had ever learned to keep up with him. Despite his shallow, pretty boy façade, he hid a vast education of the world and its workings, challenging me to constantly learn new things. Azriel never failed to have a book recommendation for me or was simply happy to sit in silence and observe the world. Mor had become a dear friend, someone who I could always call on if I had any needs or just for a cup of tea and a nice chat. I had never had a close female friend, the others of my gender so distant and I had not seen my sisters for years since we’d gone our separate ways.

But it was Rhysand I had become closest to. Ever since I saved him from a dance with Ianthe on that first night, I had been unable to keep my distance from him. His presence had a gravity that drew me to him. Many in the town interpreted his desire for privacy as haughty and off-putting. I knew it was because he valued authenticity in his friendships, not worthless chatter.

We saw each other several times a week, teas and luncheons and dinners. Never tiring of each other’s presence.

There was only one secret separating us. A secret buried so deep in my bones that it forbade me from saying the words out loud.

I sighed into the night air, my brow furrowing in frustration much to the chagrin of my blooming headache. It was spring in Prythian, warm days were accompanied by cool nights, but even with the evening chill, my skin prickled with warmth. An itch for me to shed this skin and give into another.

Hours of sitting on chaise lounges left me with too much energy. I would never be able to sleep with it coursing through my veins.

 _Very well_. With the late hour approaching, the street was empty, but I slipped into an alley just in case. Here there was no one to worry about but the cats that roamed the town.

Closing my eyes, I released a slow breath, reaching inward to the sleeping form. I grazed her soft coat with a mental finger, gently awakening her.

Her answering purr rumbled through my body, an arcing stretch pushing through my skin. Once, the transformation was painful, now it was a welcoming warmth that ran through my body.

One second, I stood in the alley in my finery. The next, a blue-eyed tabby had taken my place, another stretch shaking her awake.

 _Better, much better._ Now in my feline form, the world came alive around me. Gone was the empty wind, replaced by new sounds and scents that I couldn’t detect in my human form. The excess energy I had could now be used to race along rooftops and leap gaps.

 _Speaking of…_ a quick glance around the area gave me a path to the world above. Easy jumps bunched my lithe muscles, carrying me up a stack of boxes and onto a roof. Here the town spread out below me. I could see the dome of the temple shining white in the moonlight to my left.

As I began to run along terracotta, the thoughts swirling around my head settled into a coherent stream of consciousness.

The gift had been passed down through the women in my family. As far back as we could trace in the family tree, the gift of shapeshifting was there. Each woman had a unique form that she could take at will, the gift becoming fully realized at her first bleeding.

I took the form of a tabby cat which gave me the freedom to roam cities and towns in animal form. My sisters, Elaine and Nesta, had fox and wolf forms, forcing them to stay in more rural towns to stay hidden from society. While I would have suffered from the inability to roam, they thrived, not needing the hustle and bustle of other humans to be happy.

Their forms suit who they are. Elain is quiet and clever, Nesta is fierce and would protect Elain at any cost. Last I had heard of them, they settled in a small town down south and were living happily off Elain’s garden and Nesta’s hunting skills. It hurt to be so far from them, but it was better this way. They always had a bond between them, leaving me the outsider.

Our mother took the form of a hawk, sharp-eyed and shrewd. I wanted to think that deep down she wanted what was best for us but she spent more time in animal form than human form. She loved our father dearly but the call of the wild was in her blood and kept her away from us for weeks at a time. One winter, she flew out over the forest and never returned. I spent weeks on our front doorstep in the snow until the chattering of my teeth threatened to break my jaw. Soon after, I jumped at the chance of a painting apprenticeship to leave the painful memories behind.

Right before she disappeared, she gathered the three of us around the hearth, a rare moment of mothering.

“Girls, you know your gift, but the rest of the world must not,” she started. “The world of men is dangerous and ignorant. Our bloodline has survived for generations only because we have been careful and hidden from prying eyes.” She met each of our gazes, willing us to understand how dangerous it will be if we decided to let outsiders know our power.

“The women who have come before us have been persecuted and chased out of towns for fear of them being witches. We are not. We are shifters. It is a great and terrible gift. Great, because we can experience the world like no other. Terrible, because few understand us.

“If you are ever to take a man into your heart, he must first accept your animal form with no ill-will blackening his soul. He must be someone that you trust beyond a shadow of a doubt, someone who will risk everything to protect you and your secret. I do not know the source of our power, nor did your grandmother, but I do know that the gift will prevent you from speaking about it aloud to anyone who you have not accepted and who has not accepted you.

“It will be up to you to create a challenge that will test a man’s heart and soul to see if he is worthy of the knowledge,” she finished. She then shooed us off to bed, our mind swirling with the weight of her words.

The memory circled me back to my current conundrum. Yes, Rhys and I had grown close over the months, and any time that I encountered him in feline form he had been kind and patient. But my mother’s words had haunted me over the years, making me balk at every opportunity to let him get close enough to take the key.

The key that was a heavy mass that bumped against my chest, a constant reminder of the choice I had to make. The man I choose to take it must be the right choice, I couldn’t afford to make a mistake. The bloodline must carry on and I was sure that Nesta and Elain had no plans to allow a man into their lives any time soon.

I paused my running, realizing that in my reverie about Rhys, it had taken me to his warehouse and store. We have had many encounters here, including our first one. I watched him from afar, greeting every worker by name and treating them with respect. A fair boss who cared for his employees. It was for that reason that I decided to appear in front of him, to see how he would treat me.

 _Caldron_ , I inwardly laughed, _he looked so scared and unsure_. It was so different from his usual confident demeanor.

Movement below caught my attention, a dark figure slipping out of the back doors of the warehouse.

 _Another late night for him?_ He had talked of them often with me, they were common when business started to pick up in town. He wanted to make sure that everything ran smoothly.

I decided to pay him a visit, maybe it would help settle the conflict in my heart.

The crates piled high against the walls of the back alley allowed me to leap down easily and approach him. The wind was blowing away from me, but I was certain that no one else would be here at this time of night but him.

I let out a small meow to announce my presence, waiting for him to turn around. The figure half-turned and crouched; the movement more jerky than usual for Rhys. _Is he well?_ I worried, maybe his late nights were starting to take their toll. I padded closer to inspect him, but a dark cloak hid most of his form.

As I drew near, the hair started to stand on the back of my neck. A deeply rooted animal instinct that danger was close. I ignored it, too concerned about Rhys in front of me.

A foot shifted behind me. I spun but not fast enough. A net pinned me to the ground.

I let out a loud yowl, squirming and fighting for any way out of the trap. The world became even darker as a box was placed over me. The lack of light didn’t stop me from moving as much as possible, desperate for any way out.

Gruff voices came from outside. I quieted so I could see who had trapped me.

“Secure the cat and bring her to my house, I have a letter that must be delivered to Miss Archeron immediately.”

 _I know that voice. Tamlin O’Toole._ The unpleasant man who on several occasions had tried to lure me close to him in cat form and unfortunately trapped me in many social engagements in human form.

He went to the city for the winter and I hadn’t realized that he returned. I let out another yowl, the closest thing that came to cursing in this form.

“Hush,” his voice was sharp and was accompanied by a harsh hit on the box, knocking me sideways.

 _Like hell I’ll stay quiet while you take me against my will._ I couldn’t shift back into human form without him seeing me, and there was no way that I would let him in on my secret. Tamlin O’Toole was far from trustworthy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope y’all liked this chapter! I always get swept up with creating backstories and world-building.


	10. Morrigan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost didn’t post today because this chapter did NOT want to be written (asshole) BUT I sat down and it finally poured out.

I had never seen Rhysand this frantic.

He burst into the front hall of our house a half-hour ago, nearly out of his mind with worry.

It took him several minutes to become coherent enough for us to understand what had happened. And another few minutes for him to convey what we needed to do.

“Rhysand, are you sure about this?” Azriel questioned.

“Yes,” he replied with a nod, “I know it sounds crazy, but I swear to the Caldron that the cat looked at me and begged for help.”

We all knew Tamlin and how much of an asshole he is, but it sounded like he had played by Feyre’s rules. Cassian looked excited; it didn’t take much to get him involved with a scheme against Tamlin.

I exchanged a glance with Azriel, gaging each other’s emotions. We both loved Feyre and wanted the best for her, and Tamlin O’Toole was not the best for her.  
“If it’s her contest, can’t she just call it off and retrieve her cat?” Azriel coolly suggested. “She’s her own woman with her own fortune, she doesn’t have an extreme need to marry Tamlin.”

“Tamlin could hold her cat until she assents to his proposal,” Cassian said, “Now that it’s in his possession, you know there’s no way he’ll let it go without Feyre’s hand in marriage.” Rhys blanched at the possibility. I honestly wondered if he was going to faint from the stress.

I nodded, agreeing that Tamlin will never give up on something that he set his mind to. We’ve had one too many run-ins with him over property disputes.

“Then we go in and get the cat,” I said, pouring steel into my spine. “Feyre is our friend and if Rhys says that her cat needs us then godsdamnit, we’re going to rescue that cat.”

Shadows gathered in the corners of the alley and under the eaves of roofs. After a few hours of arguing, we finally agreed that all of us would need to be involved to get the cat out. I originally wanted Rhys to stay far away from Tamlin, but Azriel deemed him necessary to cause a distraction.

Az and I waited to the side of the house, watching Cas and Rhys walk up to the front door. As soon as they would engage Tamlin, Az and I would creep around the back and enter through the back door. Careful observation showed that all the servants were busy prepping for dinner in either the kitchen or dining room. Thank the Caldron that Tamlin decided to have a house with a lot of windows to show off his wealth.

Rhys’s firm knock traveled over the lawn and echoed throughout the house. A butler peeled off from evening preparation to answer.

“Tell Mr. O’Toole that Mr. Night has urgent business with him,” his voice edged with steel rang out.

The butler's reply was too quiet for us to hear but the wide windows showed the two being led into the parlor on the opposite side from us. Time to go.

The wrought iron fenced wrapped around the entire property, leaving only narrow alleys between it and the neighboring townhomes.

Thankfully the carriage gate in the back was already open and the gravel expanse was void of any servants. One door was slightly cracked, golden light and warm smells pouring out of it, the kitchen where the servants all were.

It was almost too easy to slink up to the formal back door and ease it open. it swung open on silent hinges, a small blessing. The hallway beyond was dim and empty, a seldom-used passageway. Brighter light shone at the end of it, opening into one of the rooms of the house.

Loud steps thundered down the stairs, Tamlin. His voice sounded at the front of the house, greeting Rhys and Cassian coldly, questioning why they were calling.

An argument started up, slightly muffled but it was easy to tell that it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.

I let Az lead the way, creeping forward on silent feet while I watched our backs for any sign of movement from the doorways. Constant chatter could be heard from the kitchen, the servants unaware of the intrusion.

The hallway gave way into a small sitting room, cramped with furniture. We had to dance and twist our way through, sticking to the rugs to avoid any creaking floorboards. The door on the right side was closed. I gave Azriel a nod to proceed, eyeing the way we came for a quick escape if we were heard. As soon as he opened the doors, the voices became louder, almost as if Rhys could sense our need for cover.

The large entryway was bisected by the stairway to the second floor, a chandelier lighting the way. Across from us, shadows danced on the wall as the dining table was set for dinner. No one paid any heed to the intruders across the hall, peeking around the door frame. The other side of the wall where we were was the source of the argument, angry voices going back and forth, round and round.

“I have several eyewitnesses putting you at my warehouse last night,” Rhys seethed, “So I will ask you again, what were you doing there?”

“Nothing of importance to you, Rhysand,” Tamlin shot back, infuriated. “I don’t believe you own the alleyway as well. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Keeping close to the wall, I eased forward until the edge of the room pressed against my shoulder. Inclining my head forward, I could see Tamlin’s back to us, just as we planned. Rhys and Cas took up defensive positions against the wall the abutted the room we were just in. Keeping Tamlin’s focus on them and not on the entryway behind him or on the reflection of the windows. They needed to rile him enough that he was deaf to the world around him.

I retracted and gave Az a small nod, we were clear to go up the stairs. No footsteps sounded above us indicating anyone on the second floor.

The stairs were thankfully also carpeted, muffling any steps or creaks that could give us away. I held my breath the whole way up. We were completely exposed to anyone that came into the hall. We needed to be fast but not sloppy.

Once we reached the top and were around the corner, only then did I release the air that was tight in my chest. Az’s tight face relaxed a fraction, as if he was holding his breath too.

The arguing voices continued downstairs.

We had reached the hardest task.

Earlier Az had scaled the neighboring townhouse, the owners still thankfully out of town. The vantage point from the roof had revealed what we all dreaded.

There was a servant guarding the cat at all times. She was in a cage placed in the middle of the room with someone sitting by her. Az had watched long enough that if the guard needed to leave, they called for someone else to take their place so that she was never alone.

Whether this was to protect against thieves or to make sure the cat didn’t try to escape by itself, it presented a problem.

Cassian had been in favor of knocking the person out.

_“Not enough to kill them, just so that they would be out for a bit,” he argued. “They might just have a small headache when they wake up,” he added with a cringe._

_“No,” Rhys said firmly, “We can’t resort to violence, that could cause a whole new slew of problems.”_

_“Then how do we get them out?” I asked, my brow furrowing._

_“Distract and evade,” Az said, “Basic burgling techniques.”_

_We all looked at him, waiting for an explanation. And maybe in slight surprise at his thievery knowledge._

_He continued, “We know that all the servants will all be downstairs prepping for dinner except for this one. Tamlin is anticipating at least someone trying to grab the cat, why would he put a constant guard on it otherwise?” We nodded, following his logic._

_“Either Mor or I will cause a sound in a room close by. The servant will know that they’re the only one upstairs and go and investigate since the others are busy downstairs. I’m willing to bet that they won’t want to cause a commotion if it turns out to be nothing and Tamlin is already seeing red with Rhys and Cas downstairs.”_

Counting the doors, we stood outside the study where the cat and the guard was. Right on cue, Cassian escalated the fight, knowing that we need Tamlin to not hear the noise upstairs because he would come storming up. I pressed myself into an alcove partially hidden by a tapestry while Az continued on. We decided that he would be the one to cause the noise while I released the cat. He could stay quiet even when moving fast, an inherent talent that annoyed us to no end when we played hide-and-seek as children.

I would be the one to release the cat in case it was jumpy around men after being snatched.

 _Or cat-napped,_ I inwardly joked with myself. _Not now, Mor,_ I scolded.

A thump sounded down the hallway. My heart pounded, waiting for the hitch in voices downstairs. The shouting continued without pause.

A few feet away, the door to the study opened, flooding the hall with light, broken up by a shadow.  
“Hello?” came a sweet voice. A woman servant then was on duty. Good thing we shot down Cassian’s idea to knock them out. She stepped fully out into the hallway, looking both directions for the source. I pressed further into the wall, willing her to go towards where Az should be climbing out the window by now.

_Ka-thunk._

Footsteps retreated down the hall, she was taking the bait. I slipped out my hiding spot and treaded towards the door, keeping an eye out if she returned.

My hand alighted on the door, twisting the knob.

It didn’t move.

I twisted harder, maybe it was old and got stuck. It still refused to move.

 _Shit, she locked it._ I knelt before the door, my hands becoming cold and clammy with sweat.

 _Quick, quick, quick,_ my thoughts beat in time with my heart. Every second passing by brought me closer to the return of the servant. I slipped a pin out of my hair and into the lock.

 _Come on, come on…_ I only had experience picking locks when I needed to break into Cassian’s room, how different could it be?

 _There._ The lock turned back and I twisted the handle.

The room was lit with a few candles, a wide mahogany desk sat against the left wall, bookshelves covered the room.

My eyes settled on the cage.

The _empty_ cage.

I closed the door behind me, locking it again to buy a few seconds when the woman came back.

_Shit, fuck, shit, where did the cat go?_

A small sound drew my attention. I scanned the room again.

There, by the window. Feyre’s cat was waiting patiently by the window. She tilted her head as to say _What took you so long?_

 _So_ that’s _what Rhys meant when the cat could almost speak to you._ I shot back an unimpressed look, annoyed by the near heart attack it gave me by escaping the cage by itself.

It rose to its feet, turning to face the window, as if it already knew the next step of the plan.

“You’re welcome, you know,” I quietly grumbled to it, unlatching the window and swinging it open.

The cat let out a small trill and rubbed against my thigh in thank you.

“Not fair,” I whispered, scratching lightly behind her ears. “Off you go then, I expect you want to get out of here.”

The cat gave me one more meaningful look and prepared to make the leap to the nearby rooftop, bunching up its muscles.

This was the part of the plan we were least certain about. We knew the cat was intelligent, it had survived all those months of being chased, but we were unsure of how to get it out of the house. It would be hard to sneak it back out the way we came, especially if it didn’t want to be picked up. Rhys, in the end, had been the one to suggest opening the window and letting it determine how to getaway.

The cat wiggled its body one more time, a final adjustment before leaping into the night air and landing silently on the neighbor’s rooftop.

Footsteps appeared in the hallway, approaching the room fast. Time for me to make my exit.

I swung out the window, closing it once I had my balance on the small ledge. I sent a prayer to the gods that the ivy-covered trellis would hold my weight as I climbed down. My head disappeared from sight just as the door opened.

The wood groaned beneath my feet as I eased myself down. Any noise I made was covered up by the maid cussing a surprising amount and then hurrying off to break the news to Tamlin. I cringed inwardly, feeling bad for the tongue lashing she is certain to get. Hopefully, she wouldn’t lose her position in the house.

Just as my feet touched the ground, a roar of anger nearly shook the windowpanes.

_And that would be Tamlin._

Az was waiting for me, we needed to exit through the carriage gate before every servant in the house was sent out the recapture the cat. We crouched ran along the house, checking around the corner before making a dash for the gate and into the streets beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOOO one more chapter to go!   
> Also check out my ACOTAR graduation cap! https://missbrightsky.tumblr.com/post/617146991048343553  
> Even though I won’t get to wear it :(


	11. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it y’all! Before you read the chapter, I just want to say thank you so much for all the support and kind comments! This has been the longest fanfic I’ve written (and consistently posted) to date and it would not have been possible without you readers <3  
> Don’t forget to like, subscribe and comment (haha jk…. unless?) I will be posting more fics in the near future and maybe even a continuation of this one!

When the maid came downstairs to tell Tamlin that Feyre’s cat had gone missing, his anger could have brought down the house. He immediately turned on us, spit flying out of his mouth demanding that we return the cat at once. Insisting that he had won her fair and square.

I reined in my temper, fanned hot from the argument, and let a cool mask slip into place.

_“We were here the whole time talking to you, Mr. O’Toole. How could we have possibly let the cat out?” I didn’t let myself smirk with satisfaction. Not yet._

_“You could have had help!” Tamlin threw back at us, his manners reverting to their most base form._

_Cassian merely raised an eyebrow at him, completely at odds to the hothead that had helped me conceal any sounds that might have come from Mor and Az._

_Tamlin loosed a growl, clawing his hand through the air. “Get the hell out,” were his final words._

Cassian and I were all too happy to leave, eager to rendezvous with the others at my warehouse. I forced my steps to be slow and even, the casual grace of an aristocrat who had all the time in the world.

Even after Tamlin slammed the door the second we were past the threshold; his rage could be heard from down the block.

The cool night air banked the fire in my veins, relief rushing in to take its place. The cat was out, Feyre was free of any potential attachment to Tamlin. Cassian allowed me to have silence as we twisted and turned through the streets, knowing that I needed to regain control of my emotions.

As we turned the final corner into the warehouse alleyway, two dark figures were already there to greet us.

“Like taking candy from a baby,” a sweet voice reached us, followed by a white smile that gleamed in the low light.

“The comparison is far too accurate, Mor,” I responded, the small knot that was in my chest loosened seeing her and Az safe and relaxed. No problems on their side then.

“I need you to describe in detail just how many colors his face turned when he found out that the cat was gone,” she said, eager to relish Tamlin’s loss.

Cassian was the one to answer, “Feyre doesn’t have enough paint in her house to get make a dent in the rainbow Tamlin turned,” a feral grin splitting his lips. We all laughed, the last of the tension melting away.

We had succeeded. And maybe had a bit of fun at Tamlin’s expense on the way.

“Well I don’t know about the rest of you, but I feel like raided Rhys’s wine cellar in victory,” Mor said, leaving no room for argument on my side. I raised my hands in defeat, they earned whatever bottle they could get their hands on after helping me pull off this plan.

Mor slung her arms over the shoulders of my brothers, steering them towards the street. They reached the end of the alleyway, pausing when they saw that I wasn’t following them.

“Coming, Rhys?” Mor asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m going to stick around for a bit, see if the cat shows up,” I said, “Just to make sure it’s ok,” I added sheepishly.

Instead of laughing, all three simply nodded their heads and continued home.

With their celebratory energy gone, I felt the last of my adrenaline drain from my system, leaving me tired and cold. The last several hours had been a whirlwind of panic and planning, barely stopping to think about any consequences.

I slumped onto one of the crates that lined the alley walls, not caring about any dust that might gather on my clothes. The stable surface and cool walls steadied my head, prompting me to let my eyes slip closed and take a few deep breaths.

We did it.

We had successfully freed Feyre’s cat from Tamlin’s clutches, saving her from a marriage to him.

 _Should I tell her about this?_ The question clanged through my mind. My immediate reaction was yes, but guilt settled in my stomach. _I did this because the cat needed help,_ not _because I was trying to win favor with Feyre._ _She could see it that way if I do…._

A war waged in my head, pulling my will back and forth. My heart had become hers over the months, I wanted so desperately for her to know about how I felt about her. This could be the opportunity to tell her.

But

What if she saw it as interference with her competition? She had expressed her dislike for Tamlin several times, but she is a woman of her word and perhaps would see my interference as an unforgivable act.

The knot returned to my chest, constricting my breathing as the world closed in around me, panic and guilt pounding in time with my heart.

_Mrrow?_

The air whooshed out of me as I jumped, startled by the sound. There sitting on the crate next to me was the familiar tabby, watching me with concerned eyes. Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t heard her approach.

“Hello, darling,” I murmured, not moving so I wouldn’t frighten her away. The cat had already gone through enough in the past 24 hours.

We studied each other for a minute, taking in each other’s presence.

She took a tentative step towards me. I froze, unsure of what to do.

A quiet purr started up in her throat, her eyes half closing as she brushed her coat up against my arm.

Slowly, carefully, I reached out, running a hand from her head down her back. The purr increased in volume, rumbling beneath my palm. I continued the path for several minutes, enjoying the soft feeling of her fur.

Suddenly, she jumped down but continued her purr. She brushed up against my legs and then trotted down the alley. Once at the opening, she turned back, cocking her head as if to say _You coming?_

I heaved myself to my feet, treading softly in case the cat did not want me to follow. When I reached her side, she started off again, following the streets out of town. I recognized the path; it was one I had taken with Feyre a thousand times whenever I would walk her home from tea.

The cat kept pace with me, only a half-step ahead, leading the way.

It was late enough that there was no one on the streets, all tucked away in their homes for the evening. The moon shone brightly behind us, casting our shadows ahead. Her small, feline form and my large, human one.

A cloud flickered over the moon, causing the cats’ form to become what looked to be a woman’s. I jolted. I had seen that form cast in shadow on sunny days when Feyre and I walked the town square or our gardens. My gaze shot towards the sky, but the night was clear, and the stars were out in full force. I returned my gaze to our shadows, hers was that of a cat’s again. _I must well and truly finally be losing it._

When we reached the edge of town, I hesitated, unsure if I should continue to follow. The cat brushed up against my leg, encouraging me to walk with her.

 _Maybe she wants to make sure she gets back to her mistress alright._ I didn’t mind escorting her, however odd it may look to an outsider. Deep down, I wanted to make sure the cat got home safe, maybe for my own selfish needs.

The mile to Feyre’s home passed quickly, time eaten up by me studying the cat. She was always a mystery to me, no matter how many months had gone by in each other’s company. Her blue eyes always seemed to laugh at me, as if there was a joke that you could only understand if you spoke cat. Those blue eyes chased me in my dreams, the face surrounding them sometimes morphing from human to feline and back. I always chalked them up to the nonsense of dreams.

Soon enough, the golden glow of the estate peeked through the trees, a welcoming embrace from the chilly night.

The cat trotted down the path that led to Feyre’s house, occasionally looking back at me to make sure I was still following. The tabby sat on the doorstep, the brass key dangling from her neck.

I approached carefully, crouching down. Her clear blue eyes gazed upon me, patiently waiting on my next move. Reaching out, I gave the cat a tentative scratch behind her ears. The tabby responded with a deep, rumbling purr, lifting its chin to allow me better access for scratching while also exposing the clip that held the key in place. With a final pet, I reached for the latch, watching the cat’s body language for any signs of aggression. Her eyes remained on mine, still purring away. My deft fingers shook with nerves, but I managed to unclip the key on the first try. “Thank you, darling,” I whispered.

I straightened and turned to the door. I glanced at the cat one more time, my heart pounding with anticipation. She gave me an almost unperceivable dip of the head, saying _Go ahead, you’ve earned this._ The key slipped into the opening with ease, a resounding _thunk_ echoed through the door as I unlocked the front door. I opened it to reveal an empty hall.

“Hello, Rhysand” a voice came behind me.

I turned to see Feyre, mouth parting with a grin that could only be described as feline.

“Will you marry me?” she asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the moment I don’t have any plans for an epilogue. I’m tempted to do a smutty side series that would be non-canon and can be read in between certain chapters. I kinda want to bring the sisters in for another series, but I’m not as well versed in their personalities. Reach out if y’all have any ideas/requests for a continuation of this series or a different fic!


	12. Epilogue: Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it technically an epilogue if it takes place right after the last chapter ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

I stood frozen, unable to think or move or _breathe_.

There she was. The woman I had loved for months, standing there, asking me to marry her. Elation raced through my veins.

I was the one to retrieve the key from the cat. Not by force, but by trust and what I hoped was love. I was the one that she would marry, not Tamlin.

A smile broke over my face and was reflected in hers. My hand slipped from the doorknob; my body ready to step towards Feyre. Ready to take her in my arms and tell her how long I had loved her.

 _But…_ my thoughts caught up to me… _wasn’t there a cat there instead?_

“Rhys?” her voice was the answer to a question I hadn’t known I’d been asking.

I opened my mouth, gaping like a ridiculous fish while every stream of consciousness in my mind eddied out.

 _She…_ it grasped for rationality. An explanation that wasn’t there. An impossibility that caused my head to become lighter than air, spinning like a leaf in the slight breeze. Black and white stars sparked on the edges of my vision.

“Rhys?” her voice came again, this time distant like I was underwater. Darkness closed over my eyes, leaving me to drift off into the night sky.

* * *

“Rhys? Rhys! Oh, thank the Caldron,” each word became clearer, attached to a familiar mouth.

I let a small amount of air pass through my lips, bringing me closer to consciousness.

“What happened?” I hoarsely asked, my eyes finally opening to study the face that hovered above me.

“You fainted,” Feyre said, worry and laugher tinging her voice, “Like a maiden on her wedding night.”

I let my eyes slip closed again, hoping that the blood that rushed to my cheeks was hidden by the night. A slight throb pounded in my head which was now cushioned on something soft. _I fainted…_ trying to recall what had happened right before it.

_We saved Feyre’s cat from Tamlin. She let me pet her and led me back here where I unlocked Feyre’s front door…_

I sharply inhaled, sitting up fast, narrowly missing knocking into Feyre’s head where it still hovered above. I twisted, taking in her form.

“You…” I couldn’t say it, couldn’t even believe the words that wanted to tumble from my mouth.

The worry in her face deepened, but not for me. It morphed into something wary and feral, a predator ready to attack or flee.

“You…” I repeated, weaker this time, images flashing in my mind. Separate moments of her and the cat blending together, like two halves of a painting being brought together. She studied my reaction, gaging the emotions that were surely written across it.

Disbelief. Uncertainty. Bewilderment. Confusion.

I settled on the simplest words I could manage.

“You’re a cat.”

Her expression remained guarded but a small crack in it opened, allowing a sliver of hope to shine through.

“Yes,” she said carefully, monitoring my reaction.

“And a human.”  
“Yes, obviously,” she said again, this time with a small laugh. Her face softened, realizing that I wasn’t about to harm her for what she was. The thought that someone would do that to her made my stomach twist, made me angry that they would even _think_ to do her harm because of it.

“Um….,” I scrambled for words, unsure of how to process this information. Thankfully, she saw my hesitation and confusion and leaned forward to take my hand.

“Do you want me to explain it?” she asked gently, still watching for an adverse reaction.

I closed my mouth against whatever nonsense I was about to spew and merely nodded. She pressed her lips into a thin smile, like she was suppressing laughter for my sake. I gave her a withering look in return, a bit of normalcy in our relationship returned. This time she couldn’t contain the chuckle, letting it slip out and wrap around me like a warm embrace.

“I am what is called a shifter,” she started, squeezing my hand gently to keep me present. “It is an ancient bloodline in my family, passed down from mother to daughter.” I nodded, plucking each fact she gave me from the air and laying them out in a neat line.

“I do not know the specifics of the magic, nor did my mother or does my sisters, we have simply accepted this a way of life. What I do know is that once each daughter has her first bleeding, the power awakes in full force, allowing her to learn her animal shape,” questions started to trip on the tip of my tongue, but I bit down on them, willing them to recess for the time being.

“When I was thirteen, I was able to shift for the first time and discovered I was a tabby,” her eyes became a bit glazed, becoming lost in the memories, “It was… a bit painful, and startling, and almost… disappointing. My sisters had forms that were more suited for forest life than mine, another divide between me and them.” It was my turn to squeeze her hand as long healed sadness cast a shadow on her face. Her gaze cleared and gave me a grateful glance before becoming serious.

“It is because of the unknown origin of my powers that the women of my family must keep it a secret from the outside world.”

The words on my tongue could no longer be restrained, “Why me?” I breathed, hardly knowing if I wanted the answer. Her blue eyes met mine, simmering with an emotion that caused my throat to close up and eyes to burn.

“The last piece of wisdom my mother ever gave me was that if I ever wanted to love a man, I will have to trust him beyond a shadow of a doubt. That he would have to be someone clear of mind and soul.”

My heart had surely stopped at this point. “You love me?” I blurted out, immediately regretting the words that were heavy with anticipation.

Instead of freezing or balking from the question, Feyre reached forward, taking my other hand in hers. “I know that I love you and trust you because I am able to speak these words. The gift will not allow me to reveal myself to a man who does not love with will all of his being.”

My heart broke and healed an infinite amount of times at her declaration. Tears that I had dammed up spilled over, their tracks cooling my flushed cheeks.

“Oh, don’t cry,” she laughed, even while her own tears escaped too. We both laughed at our hopeless situation, neither of us breaking contact to dry them. I shifted closer, allowing me to bring our joined hands to my mouth.

“I love you too,” punctuating the treasured phrase by a kiss brushed on her knuckles. I looked up, questions again ready to spill out but fell away when I saw how close we had become.

I finally let her hands go, coming up instead to frame her face. In the light of the moon, I could see the spray of freckles that bridged her nose, nearly lost to the brush that had been stained on her cheeks. Her eyes were shining with more unshed tears, illuminating the deep pools of blue I wanted to drown in. our share breaths mingled in the air, warming the space between us.

I swept my thumb along her cheekbone, letting my eyes shutter slightly and dip to her lips. I tilted my head in silent question, hoping and yearning and ready to beg for permission. I didn’t have to wait long for Feyre closed that final gap between us.

Her lips were every bit soft as I dreamed they be, molded perfectly to mine. A small sigh escaped her lips, prompting me to deepen the kiss. Her hands came up to tangle in my hair, pulling me infinitely closer, palms burning into my scalp.

I dropped one hand to wrap around her back, the other sliding to the back of her neck to tilt her head back, allowing me more access.

“You never answered my question,” she teased, breaking our kiss. I groaned at the loss of contact, wanting her back immediately. My brow furrowed slightly, scanning my recent memories for it.

“Oh,” my cheeks blushing infinitely more, “Yes, I will marry you, Miss Feyre Archeron.”

Her smile could have lit up the world, and I was the one lucky enough to be the reason for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to y'all's comments I have an idea for a follow-up series with the sisters but for now, I have a few other works that I want to post :)


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